


Overexposed

by SandraMG



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Album fic, Confusion, Declarations Of Love, Falling In Love, M/M, Miranda included, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandraMG/pseuds/SandraMG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Adam Levine learned to stop worrying and love Blake Shelton, tracks 1 through 16.<br/>When Adam and Blake first met, there was instant tension and resentment, solved only by a heartfelt discussion over booze. What happens when Adam realizes his feelings are more than just friendly, and will he ever work up the guts to actually talk about it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One More Night

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, the writing bug has decided to grace me with a bite! I have been sitting on this idea since the day Overexposed was released, and I have finally been able to get fingers to keyboard to actually write it. 
> 
> One brief necessary warning: I write RPF for the fun of it, and because I can't help myself. I 100% think of these people as characters, and I write them based on how I see them in my head. This is entirely a work of fiction based within the characters' personal "canon". I do not wish ill on any person depicted in this story, and while I tend to dislike including real-life spouses and partners in fic, I felt the story was empty without it. Apologies to anyone who is offended, it was not my intention.

_You and I go hard, at each other like we going to war_  
 _You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slammin' the door_  
 _You and I get so damn dysfunctional we stopped keeping score_  
 _You and I get sick, yeah I know that we can't do this no more_  
  
 _But baby there you go again, there you go again – making me love you_

 

               The studio was a flurry of activity, bodies darting in and out of every corner backstage, the control room a hub of activity.  Drumbeats pounded in chests as more than one PA downed an Advil to stop the matching pounding in their heads. On stage, the lights cast the studio audience in shadow as they beat down on a young talent, hopeful as she awaited criticism from the four superstar judges; The Voice was mid show, and the smack talk had already commenced.

            Rivalry was fairly common between talent show judges – the producers believed it created “drama” for the audience (and the press). Adam Levine did not like to play any idiotic Hollywood games; he believed that taking the high road was a good practice in self-preservation. That was until he had met Blake Shelton.

            “That is bull crap, and you know it buddy,” Blake’s deep, Southern drawl snapped from across the stage back to Adam, the man kindly reigning in his cussing for the benefit of the live television audience. Adam threw up his hands, throwing an apologetic look to the competitor, a young 20-something girl who had chosen Adam as her mentor, and made it to the top sixteen. Adam liked her; she was cute, funny, and talented as hell, so it pissed him off whenever one of the other judges (namely Blake) went after her voice, saying it wasn’t up to scratch, claiming that Adam didn’t know talent from a hole in the wall. He was starting to think that signing up to judge a talent competition hadn’t been the best idea.

            “Sorry you feel that way Shelton,” Adam countered as he sat back in his chair. He had learned the secret to dealing with Blake – don’t provoke him. Blake may have a few inches in both height and width on Adam, but Adam probably could have taken him. However much he may want to deliver a swift, quick kick to Blake’s nads, though, sometimes you can’t fight fire with fire. For now, Adam was more than happy to sit back, kick up his feet, and watch Blake burn.

            Adam just didn’t get it; when he’d first met Shelton, the guy had been fine, completely nice, endearing; all the qualities of good ol’ boy that Adam adored without the inbred racist or homophobic tendencies. It was only lately that Blake’s inner dick-ishness seemed to rear it’s ugly head. Whatever, fine, Adam was cool with it. He had worked with enough to people to know that he would never be able to get along with everyone. Adam just could not understand why he had this intense need to get Blake to like him, or at least agree with him once in a while. Hell, five minutes without a passive aggressive comment would be a step in the right direction.

            The show went on; Blake lobbed a few more verbal grenades towards Adam as the latter diffused them, one after the other, winking and joking and charming the audience onto his side. Adam reveled in it, cackling evilly to himself as Carson signed off and they all waved goodbye to the audience as the four judges headed backstage, intent on seeing their teams, doling out support and congratulations for the ingénues. Adam could feel the mother hen instinct coming on as he hugged and joked around with his team of four. He was so proud of the progress they’d made, and it killed him knowing that three of them wouldn’t make it to the end. Perhaps that’s why he got so defensive in front of Blake; cutting someone down on primetime national television wasn’t something to revel in.

            With one last wave to the team, Adam headed towards his own trailer to pick up his stuff. He was exhausted, in every sense. The show didn’t even leave him time to write anymore. Thank god for the boys; they had been writing music for their next album during the day while Adam sweated in the studio, but now they needed lyrics, and Adam needed inspiration. However, right now, all Adam wanted was a cold beer, a babe, and a bed, not necessarily in that order.

            Lost in his wishful thinking, Adam rounded the corner and collided with what seemed to be a solid brick wall; stumbling backwards, he realized that it was not a wall, but Blake, looking irritated at having his hall-stomping session interrupted. Once he realized just whom he had banged into, Blake’s expression softened, much to Adam’s surprise. “You okay?” Blake asked, the southern drawl resonating in Adam’s chest. It would have been comforting if he still didn’t want to punch the guy.

            “Yeah, fine.” Adam replied. “See you tomorrow.”

            “Wait,” Blake sidestepped to block Adam’s escape. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

            “Dude it was an accident, whatever, it’s fine.” Adam said, his attempts to get around Blake proving futile.

            “No, I mean,” Blake ducked his head with a deep exhale. “I mean, I’m sorry I’ve been attacking you lately. I’ve been…well, I’ve been a jackass the whole time when I actually I admire the hell out of you.”

            Adam wondered if he hadn’t actually been knocked over and hit his head on the ground. Blake’s apology was one thing, but for the guy to actually _like_ him? There was only one thing he could do.

            “Come on. You owe me a beer.”

***

            Two hours later at one of L.A.’s pseudo seedy bars, Adam found himself still engrossed in the world of Blake Shelton. Being in the presence of an honest to goodness redneck, Adam posed questions on everything from hunting (“Don’t knock it till you try it”), to moonshine (“I may be a hick, but I don’t have a death wish”), to pick up trucks (“It’s not a cliché if they’re useful, city boy”). Their relationship had gone 180 degrees from where they’d last stood, from facing each other in the boxing ring to sitting ringside laughing it up. Blake, for his part, truly was sorry for “being a dick”, as he had put it; he seemed interested in everything Adam had to say, from growing up in L.A. to the meaning behind his tattoos. He even wanted to know what the band was up to, and when their next album would be out.

            “We’re still kind of riding the last one right now. I think we’ll put another one out next year, but it’ll take a while to finish, what with all this judging crap and the boys want to take a break.” Adam inhaled sharply, under Blake’s heavy gaze. “To be honest,” he continued slowly, “it’ll probably be our last one for a while.”

            “Oh man, I’m sorry.” Blake’s face fell, and clapped a hand on Adam’s back; the weight felt reassuring and comfortable as Adam gave a small, sad smile. “Nah, man it’s fine. We’re all still friends and stuff; it’s just that I don’t know how long I want to do this for. I want to try writing stuff other than music, and acting, and I don’t even know what else. I love music, I just – “

            “ – Don’t know if this is what you want to be doing for another twenty or thirty years,” Blake finished, his smile creeping back onto his face as he took another swig of his drink. “I get it. I never thought I’d be good for anything but playing music, but this judging thing has been such a trip. Shows me there’s a whole other world out there.”

            “Hollywood is definitely it’s own planet, I’ll give you that,” Adam grinned; at last, he felt comfortable with Blake as they found common ground. One glance at his watch told him it couldn’t last, not tonight anyway.

            “I’d better take off,” Adam said, draining his glass. “Don’t you have rehearsal tomorrow morning for the show?”

            “Yeah,” Blake affirmed and stood up, pulling on his jacket. “The team and me are going to do a song tomorrow night.” As they exited the bar, Blake paused, turning back to Adam. “I actually think you’re going to like it.”

            “What song did you pick?” Adam asked, suddenly curious by the tone of Blake’s voice.

            “Oh no,” Blake clapped a hand on Adam’s back. “Got to leave it as a surprise, rock star.” With one final squeeze of the shoulder and a wave, Blake wandered off in search of a cab.

            Adam stood stock still on the pavement; he wasn’t sure how many more surprises he could take.

***

            24 hours later, Adam sat in his big red chair, Cee Lo and Christina next to him, Blake having vacated his spot to wait backstage for his performance with his team. As the audience wranglers worked the crowd into a frenzy, Carson introduced Team Blake. As the first notes of the Maroon 5 song, “This Love”, played, Adam wasn’t sure if he wanted to bury himself into the ground, or Blake.

            _I am seriously going to kill him_ , Adam thought, though his smile was genuine as Team Blake came out and sang his own words to him. It would have been bearable if Blake himself hasn’t descended the staircase, maintaining eye contact with Adam, singing those highly suggestive words; Adam could barely breathe.

            As the song came to an end, Adam gave a standing ovation of the traditional kind (a “standing ovation” of a more scandalous type would happen later when he reflected on the performance). Comments were said and jokes were made, though the minute Blake made his way back to his chair, he stopped, leaned into Adam, and whispered, “That was for you.”

            Adam’s breath hitched, and he laughed and punched Blake on the arm to cover. All he could think as Blake walked back to his own chair was, _I am so screwed._

 

*** 

            The weeks went on and the competition was close to end; everyone was preparing to head out on tour, or start recording, or finish up various other projects. For Adam, it meant a press tour for the new single and a few shows; for Blake is was back up to Oklahoma for a break. “I didn’t even get a decent honeymoon, Miranda would kill me if I scheduled a tour right after all this.”  The mention of Blake’s wife sent Adam into a tailspin; it wasn’t enough that he had some kind of obsession with a straight dude – it had to be a straight, _married_ dude. It was as though the universe was tempting him with the wrong kind of bait, and he was still stupid enough to try and go after it. “Just stick a ‘Kick Me’ sign on my back and be done with it,” Adam grumbled, his pleas apparently going unnoticed as he stared at the Mr. Lambert for the umpteenth time that day.

            Still, his friendship with Blake was at an all time high; they still teased and prodded each other, but they both knew now not to take it personally. Adam had no hesitation in jumping on Blake’s shoulders, just as Blake saw every opportunity as time for a hug (which Adam completely reveled in); it was easy; friendship not rooted in any real similar traits or interests (because outside of music, they hardly shared any); it was rooted in understanding, in the ability to listen, learn, and sympathize. It was simply friendship at its most basic core.

            The finale was all too soon in coming; it was fitting that it should come down to Adam and Blake’s contestants. As they waited for the final verdict that would change the lives of the young artists, Adam caught Blake’s eye for a single moment. Blake smiled and nodded, as if to say “Good game.” Adam smiled until a camera wheeled around to face him, forcing him to put his attention back on the stage. Moments later, Javier was crowned winner, and Adam felt complete validation, not to mention pride in Javier’s abilities. Confetti rained down on the audience as congratulations and hugs were handed around. Adam was suddenly rushed by Blake, and found himself in the middle of the tightest, warmest, happiest bear hug he had ever received. He could feel the reverberation in Blake’s chest as he shouted words, but Adam failed to hear anything; it was sensory overload as the room filled with music and joy and laughter.

            As the party shifted from the stage to another area of the studio, Adam found himself at the bar, in desperate need of a drink.

            “You couldn’t hear me on stage could you?”

            Adam turned quickly to find Blake leaned against the makeshift bar, smirking at him. “Uh no,” Adam replied sheepishly. “It was a bit loud. What did you say?”

            Blake looked down into his beer bottle. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I just wanted to say congratulations.” He smiled at Adam, clinking bottles together in a toast. “I’m actually heading out of here in a few minutes,” Blake told him.

            “Never known you to leave a party early while there’s still booze, Shelton!” Adam teased him, nudging his shoulder as it lay even with his.

            “Too true,” Blake grinned. “But I want to get back up north as soon as I can. I think I’ve had enough of Hollywood for a while.”

            Adam tried not to let his disappointment show. Crush or no crush, he really did consider Blake a friend first; he’d miss the bastard, when it came right down to it.

            “Besides,” Blake interrupted Adam’s thoughts. “I wouldn’t want you to get sick of me.”

            “Actually impossible, Shelton,” Adam said, no trace of irony or humor in his voice; he meant it, and he wanted Blake to know it.

            “Good.”

            As they surveyed the sea of people talking, dancing, and surreptitiously moving to the dark corners to be alone, Blake and Adam drank silently, content enough for now to watch rather than participate. There was one question that had been niggling at Adam, but he wasn’t sure what to expect if it was answered. With another sip for courage, he turned to Blake. “Can I ask you something?”

            “You just did.” Blake grinned and took another swig.

            “Don’t be a dick,” Adam swatted at him. “Seriously. Why were you so angry with me in the beginning? You fought me on pretty much every decision I made as a judge. I just want to know why.”

            “Oh,” Blake seemed surprised. “Well, you know how when you’re a kid, and you pull the pigtails of the girl you like to get her attention?”

            “You were just pulling my pigtails?”

            “So to speak,” Blake chuckled. “You’re a little intimidating, Adam, whatever you say. I figured some good ol’ fighting would at least get us a reason to talk.”

            “You’re an idiot.” Adam laughed.

            “Right back at’cha,” Blake grinned. “See, you’ll miss me now with no one to pester the fuck out of during the hiatus.”

            “More like you’ll miss having someone to call “jackass” all the time.” Adam retorted.

            “Nah, I’ve got a donkey in Tishomingo.” Both men laughed, when Adam had a thought.

            “If you miss me that much,” he said “I guess I could make a trip up.”

            Blake’s smile widened. “Really?”

            Adam shrugged, “Sure. I can deal with cow shit or whatever. But if you think I’m going to go out and shoot Bambi’s mom, then the deal’s off.”

            Blake laughed outright at that, and it made Adam’s heart sing. “It’s a date.” Blake said. Adam just smiled, and an idea came to him.

            “Though I think if I have to subject myself to the great outdoors, I think you really need one more city experience to last you a few months.” Blake’s eyebrow raised as Adam went on. “Come on, stay in L.A. one more night. We’ll drink whatever they have here, we’ll go to the Brass Monkey and do karaoke, then get some really bad food somewhere.”

            Blake eyed him like he’d gone nuts. “Karaoke? Seriously?”

            “I may or may not have had a karaoke team at one point or another." Adam said, coyly. "Come on country, live a little!”

            Blake stared at him, seemingly baffled by the request. “You’re certifiable, you know that right.”

            “Yeah yeah, my straitjacket's in the other room. What do you say?" 

            Blake huffed, and with a long chug to finish off his beer, he turned back to the bartender. “Hey dude,” he called out. “Set us up, would ya?” Blake grinned at Adam. “You’re on buddy. One more night, that’s what you get.”

            Adam laughed, grabbed a tequila shot to toast Blake, and threw it back.

            _Here we go again._


	2. Payphone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been four months since The Voice wrapped, and Adam can't get Blake out of his head. He thinks he's got his feelings under control, but it doesn't stop him wanting to hear his voice, even if just for a second.

_I've wasted my nights,_  
 _You turned out the lights_  
 _Now I'm paralyzed,_  
 _Still stuck in that time,_  
 _When we called it love,_  
 _But even the sun sets in paradise_

            Adam didn’t think he was gay; to be honest, he had never really identified with any particular orientation. He wasn’t repressing any urges for the sake of a conservative father or a Christian mother; actually, his family had always been open and accepting of everyone, no matter their lifestyle. All in all, for Adam, sexuality was a state of mind more than an identity; guys turned him on just as much as girls did, though he had only ever been in exclusive relationships with women. He supposed he got along better romantically with the opposite sex than he did with his own. It did not, however, stop him from seeing, from feeling the pull, from wrapping his arms around someone in a dark club, hastily kissing in a corner until all there was were lips and tongues and teeth, telling him to let go for one night. Guys tended to be one-offs, his own personal dalliances, and Adam hadn’t met anyone who made him feel like it could be more than that. At least, not until he’d met Blake.

            Emerging from his backyard infinity pool, Adam wiped the water from his face, as though trying to wipe his mind of Blake Shelton. He had hoped a few laps would             help get his mind off of everything, particularly just how lonely he felt being back in L.A. It had been nearly four months since the show had ended, and three months since Adam had last seen Blake, when he’d gone to Oklahoma. The whole thing had been… _easy_ , was the first word that came to mind. He’d spent most of the time just sitting around with Blake, talking. Miranda had been there off and on, but it really had been like an extended boys weekend; hunting, farm chores, and a truly heroic amount of drinking. There hadn’t been any city noise or lights, and while a part of him will always love L.A, it had been amazing to just spend time in the real world. _Well_ , Adam thought, _as real as life can be on a million dollar ranch_. It had been enlightening, to say the least. It sounded ridiculous, but it was true; some people found peace through meditation, others through religious and spiritual dedication. For Adam, apparently the closest he would get to nirvana would be to see Blake in his natural habitat. When he said that to Blake, the guy burst out laughing, and said, “What the hell do you think I am, an animal?” Adam had grinned, and replied “More than you will ever know, Shelton.”

            But now he was back in L.A.; Blake’s ranch was long gone, he was just off of a whirlwind world tour, and bored out of his goddamn mind. The band still had dates coming up in a month or so, and Adam was supposed to be writing new tracks, but so far, he’d been unable to stop thinking about Blake fucking Shelton long enough to actually write.

He strolled back into his house, the glass sliding doors allowing the warm afternoon breeze to permeate throughout the house as Adam absently checked his phone for the eighth, ninth, umpteenth time, hoping for a missed call or a voicemail; anything that would give him an excuse to hear Blake’s voice. Adam was usually the first one to call and make his move, but would it be too weird to just call someone (a very busy and married someone) just to talk? Adam sighed, setting the phone down on his kitchen counter before heading upstairs to shower. He felt like a damn teenager, sitting and pining by the phone. Hell, he’d never been like this when he actually had been a teenager, why was it happening to him now?

            Under the hot steamy spray, Adam reflected on his past relationships. He wasn’t normally so philosophical (read: douchey) about his life, but judging from the mess he’d made of his love life, it wasn’t a bad idea to do a performance evaluation.

            Relationship #1: Lily Madison aged 5. Lily had owned the best and biggest marker collection in class, and she had thought Adam was the prettiest boy in class. She sat next to him, he drew a heart on her arm; it lasted one week. Conclusion: 5 year olds have the same priorities many adults have. Try again later.

            Relationship #2: Becky Geller aged 13.  Freshman year of high school, and in a desperate bid to seem cool and mature, Adam spent seven minutes in heaven with Becky, making some effort to seem like a good kisser. They dated for 3 months because Adam liked having someone to practice kissing with, even if the other person never seemed to get any better. She broke up with him when a junior asked her to prom, and Adam discovered music. Both parties were more satisfied as a result. Conclusion:  Peer pressure does not a Nicholas Sparks book make. Must try harder.

            Relationship #3: Jane aged 20. Oh Jane existed; the infamous Jane about whom a whole album of hit songs was based on definitely existed. They had met in New York soon after Adam had moved there in the late 90s, and it was the best and worst kind of relationship; best in that there was love and sex and emotions and intimacy and everything you could ever want in a romantic relationship, worst in that it, like all good things, had to end. Anger follows passion, someone loses trust, and before you know it, you have a broken heart and head full of song material. Adam still hadn’t been able to decide whether the break up had been worth it. It had made the band famous, and Jane hadn’t contacted him after. Conclusion: Love can be really, really, really dumb; E for effort.

            Adam stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and walked into his bedroom, now awash with orange light from the late afternoon sunset. It was, without a doubt, his favorite time of day; the entire city seemed to slow down because of it, hypnotized by the sinking sun on the horizon, casting a rainbow of colors over everything else. They didn’t really get seasons in L.A., but when the sun went down, it was like an hour of autumn, all orange and red and golden diving into blue and purple darkness. It always seemed like a promise for good things to come. Pulling on a pair of boxers, Adam almost fell over when he heard it; a small crash from downstairs, indicating that someone was inside the house. After managing to get his underwear on and stay on two feet, Adam looked around wildly for some kind of weapon. This wasn’t a damn tv show, he had to remind himself, as if he kept a baseball bat in his bedroom. He whirled around looking for his phone…only to realize that he’d left it in the kitchen. Feeling like an idiot, he snuck to the top of the stairs and peeked over, listening hard for any movement. There wasn’t much noise, only the sound of opening cabinets and a faint shadow moving around the kitchen, and Adam couldn’t decide whether it was some crazed fan looking for stuff to sell on ebay, or a very dexterous raccoon.

            Turns out it was a little bit of both. Just as Adam was considering making a run for it, the footsteps got louder, heading towards him. Suddenly, there was Blake Shelton, holding a drink in one hand and Adam’s phone in the other, while Adam remained frozen, crouched at the top of the stairs in his underwear. _Oh, perfect_ , Adam thought.

            “What the hell are you doing here?” Adam asked, any attempt for tact wiped away by the fact that Blake was in his house ( _broke into_ his house), and Adam was in his underwear.

            “Well nice to see you too buddy,” Blake chucked, resting one foot on the first step, lunging backwards and forwards, keeping balance. Adam swallowed nervously.

            “Seriously Blake,” Adam said, finally standing up, taking the first few steps down towards the man doing gymnast stretches on his staircase. “Why the sudden visit? How’d you even get in the house?”

            “I knew the gate combo from that time I had to drive your drunk ass home,” Blake said. “And your kitchen door was open. You might want to think about some extra security. You’re one crazed fan and a grappling hook away from being hogtied up in someone’s basement.”  
            “Yeah yeah fine,” Adam waved away Blake’s jokes. “You still haven’t told me WHY you’re here.”  
            “Well,” Blake started, and stood up straight. “I have a bit of time off from the tour, and I didn’t feel like going back to Oklahoma all alone-“

            “What about Miranda?” Adam blurted out.

            “She’s still on the road,” Blake answered, looking almost sheepish, if Adam could believe it. “I just didn’t feel like going back to Tishomingo all by myself, and I knew you had a bit of a break too-“

            “How’d you know that?” Adam interrupted again.

            Blake smirked and said, “I know you have fun just by walking around naked all day, but there’s this thing called the internet, you should try it sometime!”

            “Oh, says the guy who tossed his iPhone out the window after fighting with Siri!” Adam teased.

            “Are you seriously EVER going to let that go?” Blake rolled his eyes, and gestured for Adam to come and have a drink.

            “Give me a second, I just want to throw some clothes on.”

            “Adam, you’re about as close as a man can get to being a nudist, just come have a drink, forget about it.”

            “No seriously, I’m cold,” Adam lied; it was true that he preferred to be naked than anything else, that he felt at his most comfortable when he could let his inhibitions fly free. But it was also true that he never felt more naked than when he was with Blake Shelton; he needed some armor if he was going to make this whole friendship thing work.

            Blake rolled his eyes again, as if so say ‘whatever’, as he drained his glass. “Oh,” he said suddenly, digging into his pockets. “Here’s your phone. It went off a couple of times while I was down here, I was about to bring it up to you.” He tossed it to Adam, who caught it deftly.

            “Thanks,” Adam said, as he briefly glanced at the display, not really caring who had called. The only person he wanted to talk to right now was just downstairs, and he had him for a whole month. Adam smiled, and hummed a tune. Sometimes, things seemed to turn out right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone so much for the feedback so far! I tend not to reply to comments (if I do one I have to do them all!), but I get a thrill out of each and every one. Just a PSA that it'll probably be two-three weeks between each chapter. I work a full time job and am currently directing a play, so priorities. But I'll try and have the whole thing done before the New Year/early January. Thank you all again!


	3. Daylight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Break time is over and both guys have commitments; Adam's heading out on tour with the band, and Blake is heading back to Oklaholma before heading out on tour himself. It's their last chance to see each other before next year, and with the goodbye party in full swing, both of them have to come to grips with leaving.

_This is our last night,  
_ _but it’s late and I’m trying not to sleep  
_ _cause I know when I wake  
_ _I know I will have to slip away.  
_ _Cause in the Daylight  
_ _I will have to go,  
_ _but tonight I want to hold you so close_.

 

            In Hollywood, there’s no such thing as an “off night”; somewhere in the city of sin, there is undoubtedly some exclusive bash happening, where the elite mingle and the wannabes wait patiently outside in hopes of a lucky break. Tonight, the party was undoubtedly private, but it would prove to be one of the best, as Blake himself would continue to think long after the night was over.

            Blake had been in L.A. with Adam for nearly three weeks, time enough to get the feeling of utter loneliness out of his system and remember just how bad an idea it is to mix tequila and gin. He had to hand it to Adam, the guy was a serious rock star when it came to having fun; it had been mostly guys’ nights, nothing salacious – he was still, for all intents and purposes, a married man – drinking and jamming with anyone who was around, playing guitar into the early morning, and, of course, a heroic amount of alcohol; two musicians taking a break from the world is not the most ideal situation in which to attempt sobriety. But now real life was threatening to take back over; both of them were heading out on tour for the remainder of the year, and wouldn’t see each other again until The Voice began in the New Year. Adam, either in an effort to rid his house of all perishable food and booze, or to celebrate getting rid of Blake at last, decided to throw yet another party for a few friends; it was a chance to say goodbye.

            As fun as the parties were, Blake mostly enjoyed just being there with Adam; when he was in town doing the show, he’d be put up in a hotel or a renter house. It was only for a couple of months after all, and Blake didn’t see the point in buying a mansion in a town he couldn’t be himself in. Adam’s house wasn’t quite a mansion, but it was certainly comfortable, and seemingly miles away from the city’s usual gaudy bullshit. For the first time, Blake actually felt at home in Los Angeles; he loved waking up and wandering around the house, usually while Adam was still asleep. He loved finding new ways to wake Adam up and piss him off, just so they could go grab lunch together. Blake didn’t really understand why, but Adam always seemed a little bit sad underneath; the laughter between them was genuine, but then Blake would look away for a moment, and come back to meet Adam’s eyes, downcast and distressed, despite the smile on his face. Blake didn’t want to pry, but it was killing him not knowing what was going on in Adam’s head.

            Laughter bubbled up from downstairs as Blake broke out of his thoughts and took in the sights below; he was standing on the balcony in Adam’s room looking out over the yard where a hundred or so people were drinking, dancing, swimming – your stereotypical Hollywood bash. Blake found it all slightly intimidating, so he tended to find a corner or perch where he could watch the activities, but not actually have to say anything to anyone and risk looking like an idiot. Blake chuckled as one of Adam’s friends, Gene, snuck up behind some model chatting with her model friends (they were all the same in Blake’s mind; gorgeous, quite intelligent, and way out of his league) and threatened to push her into the pool. In the end, Gene was overpowered by the Model Squad and pushed into the pool instead, to great applause and laughter. Blake roared, giving an ear splitting wolf whistle, which caught Adam’s attention. Looking up, Adam’s smile was immediately apparent, his eyes crinkled in amusement; Blake smiled back as his heart rate rose, watching as Adam headed back into the house. _Stop it_ , he said to himself. “ _You can’t do this to yourself. He’s your friend and that’s all_. It was the usual mantra for Blake where Adam was concerned.

            Blake often told the story of how he’d met Adam and the other judges for the first time during his shows, how when he met him, Blake was stunned by just how rock and roll he was, and just how sexy he was. He played it off well in front of an audience, but in reality, Blake really had found himself immediately attracted to Adam. The more time they had spent together, the worse the feeling got. As a newlywed and a guy who had never really explored the breadth of human sexuality, it had scared the hell out of him. So he withdrew; started acting like a dick because that’s how Blake deals with things that confuse him. It had killed him to be the bad guy, so he decided to hit ‘reset’ and start over; that was their first drink together, him and Adam, and so their friendship had continued to grow on and off the show. Adam still scared Blake shitless, but Blake would rather spend time with the guy as his friend, than avoid seeing him altogether.

            As he finished his beer and scanned the crowd, Blake suddenly felt someone slide next to him and lean against the railing, holding another beer out for him. Adam grinned at Blake as they both stood silently, listening to the hum of the music and the yells of all the partygoers downstairs. It was hard to believe that come tomorrow, it would all be over; sure, Blake knew that while they would certainly see each other again, and would probably spend vacation time at one another’s house again, it would never truly be like this again – Adam’s career was taking off in more, new, exciting ways, and Blake had his family to think about.  He couldn’t keep doing this to himself, getting attached to Adam like this. No matter how much it hurt him, it would inevitably hurt someone else ten times more.

            He glanced over at Adam, whose eyes gazed down without really seeing, or else he would have laughed at Gene’s strip routine. _There it is again_ , Blake thought, referring to the sad look in Adam’s eyes which threatened to consume every other bit of him. Blake nudged his shoulder gently, breaking Adam out of his thoughts again and back to the balcony. “You okay over there?”

            Adam chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not usually a beer guy,” he said, gesturing to the bottle in his hand. “What have you done to me?”

            Blake laughed, offering his own bottle in a cheers salute. “I made you better buddy,” he said. “You can’t go around drinking tequila and dancing on tabletops forever. You’ll be an old man like me soon enough.”

            “You’re like, 6 years older than me dude!”

            “Hey, respect your elders!”

            They laughed together, and Blake was reminded again of just how much he was going to miss this. He couldn’t help but hope that the look in Adam’s eyes meant he felt the same way.

            “What time are you flying out tomorrow?” Blake asked

            “Not until late, Jimmy has a few things to sort out until we can head out. I figured we could grab lunch before you head home,” Adam said, eagerly. Then, “You know, if you want. You probably want to get back to Miranda.” Blake couldn’t read the tone, but stopped it with his response. “Nah, lunch would be great,” he smiled. Adam gave him a smile back; a 100% genuine-Levine smile. _Don’t do this to yourself._

            “What about the rest of tonight?” Blake said, if only to break the silence. “I guess these guys are here until the sun comes up, huh?”

            “Oh no, actually,” Adam turned, his arm bracing against the balcony rail so that he could look at Blake more fully. “Most of them are heading to that club opening, and the guys want to spend the rest of the night at home before we leave tomorrow, so everyone should be out of here by one at the latest. Do you want to go, or…”

            “I think I’d rather stay here,” Blake finished quickly with a grin. He had no desire to go to some stylish club, and he wanted to make the night last as long as he could. Just him, Adam, a few beers, and maybe… "I mean, unless you wanna go?"

            “Nah," Adam waved his free hand dismissively. "I just can't believe we're both leaving tomorrow. If I have to spend my last night in L.A. this year with anyone, it might as well be you, Shelton," Adam grinned.

            “So let me get this straight,” Blake smirked and folded his arms as he mocked Adam. “You’d rather stare at me all night than the Model Squad?”

            For a second, Adam didn’t say anything, but then the smile returned, “At least I know you won’t leave as soon as the sun comes up.”

            “Yeah, that’s right, “ Blake laughed. “I’m the total gentlemen, I’ll cuddle you right until you wake up!” _Stop it you idiot!_

            “Well if you did need an incentive to stick around here,” Adam reached into his pocket, permeating Blake’s thoughts. “Then _m_ _aybe_ you’d appreciate this?”

            Blake looked at Adam’s outstretched hand and thought _God damn it, yes_. .“You read my mind buddy!” Blake pulled Adam into a hug, before glancing over the balcony at Gene scrambling to get his pants out of a tree. Blake had to hand it to Adam; not only had the guy given him the best three week vacation of his life, but he had scored cigarettes of the…herbal variety. That would make him, Adam, alcohol, and a joint or two. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh so much can go wrong, Blake, you sweet summer child.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has commented on/liked this fic, I'm just glad to finally be writing it. Special thanks to my muses/betas/loves of my life, Bubbles and Becky, Shevine shippers extraordinaire.
> 
> I'm so sorry for how long this chapter took, especially considering the length and the rushed shitty writing. I'm directing/producing a play that opens tomorrow (November 9th), so I've been spread a bit thin, but I really wanted to get this up before Maroon 5 performed the song on The Voice. So here we have it. After tomorrow, I should be back on track with this right up until Christmas. I'll try and keep the updates coming more regularly now. Thanks everyone!


	4. Lucky Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the party, its back to being one more night of just them and a little herbal refreshment on an unfortunately small couch.

_I can’t wait another minute  
_ _I can’t take the looks you’re giving  
_ _Your body rocking, keep me up all night  
_ _One in a million, my Lucky Strike.  
_ _Got me so high and then he dropped me  
_ _But he got me he got me he got me bad._   


            Blake waved and said his goodbyes to the last of the crowd being ushered out the door by Adam; just as Adam said, they were all heading out into the Los Angeles night for bigger, better adventures not contained to a house party hosted by a rock star and a socially awkward country singer. Blake could put up a good front in the Hollywood scene, his “good ol’ boy” background serving at least a distraction for the self-involved glitterati; it didn’t stop him from feeling like a piece of meat in a butcher shop window. Adam’s friends were a more accommodating crowd, but they were all so beautiful and cool, Blake just didn’t feel like he fit in with them. If he was being honest, he was happy to see them go and have one last night of just himself and Adam, together.

            Blake stretched and lounged on one of Adam’s couches, a red linen two-seater. If he thought he would fit he might have just fallen asleep right there, his legs hanging comically over the arms of the couch, perilously close to knocking over an adjacent lamp. Blake wasn’t cut out for the “party all night” rockstar lifestyle, not anymore. He could put up a good enough front to survive Adam’s shenanigans, thought. He heard the door shut, just before Adam appeared, looking down at Blake, a stupid grin on his face. “Comfy?” he asked.

 _His whole face is stupid. No one should be allowed to look that stupid. Shut UP, Blake_ ; as his brain continued it’s schizophrenic musing, Blake could only give a half-hearted chuckle, and swing his legs off the couch to give Adam room to sit down.  “Give me something that will make you seem funnier.” Blake said, earning a laugh from Adam as he pulled out the joint and a lighter. He passed them to Blake so he could lean over the couch to find the right playlist on his iPod stereo. In this moment, Blake decided to take in his immediate surroundings – marijuana in his personal possession, something vaguely hipster and acoustic reverberating around the room, and Adam’s ass not three inches away from his face. “Yep. This is my hell.”

“I can change the music if you don’t like it,” Adam laughed, and whoops, Blake must have said that out loud. This was such a bad idea.

            “No no sorry it’s fine,” Blake waved a hand (the one without the joint in it). “Although you’d think with the joint you’d go for the classics,” Blake continued, determined to not stare at the lower half of Adam’s body as it rested in proximity to his. “Y’know, Zeppelin. The Who. Doobie Brothers should be a given.”

            “You are just the worst stereotype in every way Shelton, you know that?”

            “Yeah, yeah, if the cowboy hat fits, you’ve told me before. Like you’re not a walking embodiment of the rock and roll lifestyle, Mr. Why-Yes-I-Do-Have-A-Piano-In-My-Bedroom-Wanna-See-It?”

            Adam huffed, finally turning his body around, flopping in a heap next to Blake. “Amazing!” he exclaimed with a laugh “We haven’t even lit that thing and you’re ‘harshing my mellow’!” Blake couldn’t help but laugh at Adam’s ridiculous tone, handing over the joint as an upbeat acoustic song began to play. It was familiar in the way a good song should be, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember where he had heard it before. It didn’t make a difference; it suited his mood just right, and would suffice in shutting up the dueling nexus that was his friendliness towards Adam, and the utter, totally baffling, attraction he had for the guy.  He could make this work; Blake was a grown ass man, a grown ass _married_ man. Of course he could be attracted to someone else without acting on it; wasn’t that the whole point of marriage? He could do this.

            Blake glanced over at Adam, just as he lit the joint, the flame from the lighter extinguishing as Adam inhaled deeply and smoothly, his face framed by a halo of smoke, his eyes cast in shadow by the low lighting, his eyes opening in relaxation and happiness to meet Blake’s own nervous and terrified ones.

            _I can’t do this._

            Adam handed the joint to Blake with a small grin, the effects of the drug not fully felt yet. This was good pot, Blake didn’t even need to ask to know it. His fingers shook as he inhaled slowly, careful not to cough or exhale; he hadn’t done this in a while. It had actually been Miranda who had put him off it, she didn’t really care for it, didn’t like the smell. But if Blake had learned anything from his time with Adam, old habits die hard, and he might as well cap of the last few weeks with one moment of weakness. Blake let the feeling wash over him as his entire body began to relax; eventually, he passed the joint back to Adam; he stared straight ahead, not noticing Adam’s gaze that had fixed upon him, the contemplative look that had come over him. Wordlessly, the two of them passed the drug between them, allowing only the music and an occasional cough cutting the silence.

            As the minutes passed, Blake began to realize just how close he was to Adam; not in an emotional sense (though he guessed they were close that way too), but in an actual, physical, holy–crap-I’m-rubbing-elbows-with-this guy-close. They both sat with the feet on the ground, facing forwards, and Blake had only just realized how problematic that could be, given his current state. He thought about how easy it would be to reach out and take Adam’s hand as it brushed against his when he passed the joint; how simple it would be to wrap his arms around the other man; how maddeningly perfect it would be to capture Adam’s lips in a kiss right then and there. In the recesses of Blake’s mind, he knew he couldn’t do this. He knew he was digging himself into a hole he could never get himself back out of. He knew all of this. However, at that precise moment, every message telling his brain to _Get up and walk away you idiot_ was being lost in the haze. It was also in this moment that Adam turned his head to lay against the back of the couch, with a soft “Whoa. How you holding up?” There was Adam, a look of extreme happiness on his face, his pupils dilated, Blake could only assume, from the drugs. “Blake?” Adam’s voice cut through the fog again. “You alright?”

            If you asked Blake afterwards what it was that made him do it, he probably wouldn’t have been able to give an answer; the combination of alcohol still in his system, the immediate presence of drugs, the smooth acoustic guitar emanating from the speakers, and the look in Adam’s eyes all attributed to the surrender of Blake’s common sense, and the resulting kiss he planted on Adam’s lips.

             The room became time locked, as though Blake couldn’t register the minutes passing, couldn’t register anything beyond the slack touch of Adam’s lips, and the rough stubble rubbing against his own. The kiss was just that; there was no passion or lust, it was two sets of lips meeting together and becoming fused, refusing to move. Blake took it to be a good sign that Adam hadn’t jumped away and tried to punch him.  It was as if everything was moving in slow motion, like a dream; Blake felt like he was floating above his body rather than living in it, observing the scene like a third party. He could see Adam shift closer to him, his hands afraid to touch Blake in any way, as though scared he would break him. He saw himself wrap his own arms around Adam’s neck, pulling him in for a deeper, real kiss, knowing it was a bad idea, but unable to stop himself. In his out of body state, he saw Adam gain confidence, opening his mouth to let Blake in, his arms wrapping around Blake’s middle, clinging desperately to his shirt, trying to gain some higher ground as he pushed against Blake’s body. Things suddenly snapped as Blake felt actual encouragement from Adam, not resistance; he didn’t know what was going through Adam’s mind, if the drugs had addled his brain as much as they had Blake’s, but with Adam trying to climb him like a tree, he really didn’t care to question it. Blake kept Adam reigned in, not afraid to pillage the man’s mouth with his tongue, to let the wet pops and gasps invade his brain as much as the music. Adam was anchored to him, their arms wrapped around one another, one falling forward as the other fell back, unwilling to break the kiss. Adam succeeded in using Blake’s size against him, tipping the balance so that Blake was lying down, Adam leaning over him, his eyes completely blown out, not sure where this was going to lead. _If only this couch was bigger_ , Blake thought, just as his long legs rose up over the couch leg, and succeeded in knocking over the lamp, sending it crashing to the ground in a fit of pure, unlucky mockery.

            The fog lifted; Blake rushed back into his own body, as the crash woke himself and Adam out of their euphoric state. Blake could barely look at Adam, still on his knees leaning over Blake. He sat up, suddenly aware of the pounding in his head, Adam silent next to him, still staring. Neither of them said a word.

            _Well, now you’ve done it._ Blake reprimanded himself, his conscience screaming back to him, reminding him of all the trouble he had just caused by acting on his own urges. He wanted to say something to Adam, to apologize, _anything_. There was nothing he could say. He wasn’t sorry, and he couldn’t take it back. The only thing he could do was get up and leave. He stood up, Adam either too upset to protest or too confused to ask him to stay. Either way, Blake had to give him some space. Luckily, there was a whole mansion at his disposal. As he headed out of the living room to head to one of Adam’s ten spare rooms, he saw the broken lamp. “Sorry. I’ll fix that.” If he could apologize for nothing else, at least he could replace a damn lamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am well aware that I'm a horrible horrible tease, thank you. Also thanks to BFive0 and allouette for their superior beta skills, and to you for your patience. Work is quite busy at the moment, and of course with the holidays on the way, I have little spare time. But I really do enjoy writing this, and I'll try to update again soon.


	5. The Man Who Never Lied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Blake leaves the room, Adam contemplates the question: What the fuck just happened? Six hours later, he still isn't able to answer the question, and worse still, Blake has an even more difficult one for him. As far as Adam's concerned, honesty is no longer the best policy.

_In the middle of Hollywood Blvd, screaming at each other,_  
 _Oh, oh oh, can’t take it anymore._  
 _Like a tragedy, like a dark comedy, laughing at each other like  
_ _Oh oh oh, it isn’t funny anymore._

_I was the man who never lied,_  
 _never lied until today,_  
 _but I just couldn’t break your heart  
_ _like you did mine yesterday._

            “Sorry. I’ll fix that.”

            As Blake left the room, Adam sat on the couch, still as a statue but for his chest, which was rising with considerable force after having the breath knocked out of it. Adam surveyed the room; the beer bottles sweating on the coffee table, one sad, solitary joint lying to the side. Several throw pillows had found their way onto the floor, scattered amongst the debris of the lamp that Blake had knocked over in his haste to push Adam off him and get as far away from that situation as he possibly could. At least, that’s what Adam assumed was the reason. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened in the last 10 minutes anyway; one second he was sharing a smoke with Blake and thinking about how awesome it would be to run his fingers through the guy’s hair (seriously, how does it get that curly?), and the second Blake’s lips were on his and everything sort of floated away after that. Why did Blake kiss him? Was it the drugs? Did Adam imagine it and had he actually been the one to initiate the spontaneous make out session? Adam’s ego was big enough after drinking that he really couldn’t be sure of the specifics, even if they had taken place minutes previously. With Blake upstairs and unwilling to help him understand, Adam was left to stew in his own confusion and misery.

            _Way to go idiot_ , Adam scolded himself as he put two feet back on the floor and his head in his hands. He knew he should sleep, but there was no way he’d be able to stop worrying long enough. The scenario ran through his brain, and again, in a series of separate images – couch, drugs, kiss, tongue, hands, back, feet, lamp, loneliness – it all ended up in the same place. Adam concluded that the only thing to do was talk to Blake, and try to move forward. He’d have to apologize for moving too fast, tell him that it was just a joke, that he still wants to be friends, that he’s sorry.

            _Except I’m not_ , the voice sounded again in Adam’s head, invading his best-laid plans. Adam shushed it, holding onto the number one priority for tomorrow: Stay friends with Blake Shelton. The fact was that Blake had left the room for a reason, and Adam could only determine that it was because things had gotten too weird. Adam’s feelings on the subject were irrelevant; it didn’t matter that the kiss had set off fireworks like the fourth of July, nor did it matter that he had felt more turned on by one kiss than he had in almost a year. Adam needed to make sure Blake was okay, even if it meant continuing the lie inside his own mind.

 

 ***

            The next morning, Adam lay on the couch, exhausted and completely mind fucked, he’d thought about the kiss for so long and in such depth. He’d gone through what he liked to call the “Levine-Shelton Model of Guilt” wherein the five stages started with denial and continued with anger, fear, acceptance, hope, sadness, and right back down to denial. The cycle had played itself out in Adam’s mind so many times in the past 5 hours that he was ready to write a thesis on its effects. The house was silent, to the point where Adam wondered if Blake hadn’t already snuck out. It was that thought that roused him up, running to check the rest of the house as fast as he could.

            “Ooof!”

            Oops; maybe a little too fast.

            “Hey take it easy!” Blake held Adam steady by the shoulders, holding on for a second or two longer than necessary before pulling back, as though he’d been burned. The tension cut through the both of them as Adam looked from Blake to his bags to the door and back to Blake; every speech that he’d come up with in the past six hours had apparently evaporated out of his brain, leaving him gaping in front of his friend with nothing to say or explain. Thankfully, Blake seemed less bashful about the whole thing, and put on a soft smile.

            “Feeling okay?” He asked Adam, forcing him to make eye contact.

            “Yeah,” Adam said, his throat hoarse from hours of partying followed by hours of not talking at all. “You heading out already?”

            “Soon, yeah,” Blake nodded. “I know you’ve got to get ready to fly out tonight.” Adam smiled briefly, matching Blake’s nod.  If he let Blake leave for Oklahoma now, his last memory of Adam would be of a gaping, spineless idiot who couldn’t string two words together. _Say something you moron!_

            “Look Blake – “

            “Are you hun – “

            Their overlapping words finally allowed them a grace period where they could laugh. It was like a breath of fresh air in an underground bunker, and Blake’s laugh was music to Adam’s ears, stopping long enough to ask “What were you gonna say?”

            “No, you first.” Adam said, content to keep off the subject for a few minutes.

            “I asked if you were hungry,” Blake said. “We said we were gonna get lunch before we both head off, I thought we could head up to that spot on Hollywood Boulevard you and Gene told me about. The one with the pop tart tower for seven bucks?”

            “Oh fuck yeah,” Adam laughed, almost drooling at the thought of some greasy, perfect hangover food that he hardly ever allowed himself to indulge in. “Let me go change real quick.”

            “Why? You look fine. Besides, I’m not exactly dressed up here,” Blake pulled on the collar of his plaid shirt.

            “Nah, I need to get these off.” Adam pulled at his own now wrinkled t-shirt. “Start the day off fresh."

 

 ***

            Half an hour later, Blake and Adam were seated across from each other at the cool, kitschy diner that Adam and Gene had stumbled upon some months ago after a tour homecoming and proceeded to devour everything on the menu. Adam realized that he’d thought about bringing Blake there – thought about how much Blake would like the Lucky Seven breakfast platter no matter what time of day it was, how much he’d scoff about the pop tart tower (a completely ridiculous dessert that involved deep fried pop tarts, ice cream, and chocolate sauce) before diving in with his own fork, how, if he hadn’t driven them both here in his truck, he’d insist on them both having a beer with breakfast. Adam glanced over his menu at Blake, whose own nose was stuck in his menu. At least choosing food gave them a pause from trying to figure out what to say. When the waitress came over and subsequently dashed away with their orders, both of them sat quietly; Adam might have pointed out a painting on the wall and its famous creator, Blake probably laughed at the picture of a rooster with the caption “photo of my cock”. When the food came, they ate, picking off one another’s plate without even thinking; it was proof that nothing had changed in their relationship, other than the fact that they could barely talk to one another. Sooner or later, Adam knew, he’d have to bite the bullet and bring up last night. He just didn’t know what to say; if he was being honest, he hoped Blake would admit he had wanted it to, that it hadn’t just been a drunken, drug filled moment. This was the thought that had kept him up for most of the night, and the thought that forced him to be brutally honest with himself; it would never happen. It could never happen.

            Blake must have seen his downcast stare. Sighing, Blake finally spoke up. “Did you want to talk about last night now?”

            Adam’s head snapped up, confused. “What about it?”

            Blake bit his lip, reminding Adam of a similar gesture he’d done last night - _Stop it._ “I just…I wanted to make sure…that we were, you know, okay?”

            “Of –of course we are.” Adam coughed to cover up the break in his voice. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

            “I just figured,” Blake leaned in further, “that you’d wanna talk about the fact that I kissed you last night.”

            Adam coughed again, for real this time, so caught by surprise by Blake’s blatant choice of words. Looking around for eavesdroppers, he turned back to Blake, “We don’t need to talk about this right now.”

            “Jesus, Adam,” Blake sat back, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just tell me what you’re thinking right now, I can’t stand it anymore.”

            “Can’t stand what?”

            “ Watching you and trying to read your face like a book that’s in another language dammit, it’s frustrating as hell!”

            “Is everything okay here?” The waitress had come back with their bill, looking at both Blake and Adam apprehensively.

            “It’s fine, everything’s fine, thanks, here you go!” Adam shooed her away with a handful of bills, grabbed his jacket and pulled Blake up and out into the Los Angeles sunshine.            

            On the sidewalk, Blake pulled his arm out of Adam’s grasp and forced Adam to look him in the eye. Adam glanced around again for onlookers, but the usually busy street was sparsely populated this early on a Saturday, most people either ducking in and out of restaurants, or being distracted by the sights and fumbling to take pictures. Adam brought his gaze back around to Blake, whose blue eyes bore into his own with disarming strength.

            “Listen, Adam,” Blake began, his gaze softening. “We both know what happened last night. I kissed you, and I think you kissed me back.”

            Adam swallowed.

            “All I want to know is one thing.” Blake continued, his voice almost pleading. “When I kissed you, did it mean anything? Did you feel…anything?”

            Now Adam had to be careful. He knew what this was; this was Blake’s way of asking Adam if he had a crush on him, if he wanted Blake to back away and let him try to get over it on his own. Blake had found him out, and Adam couldn’t be more pissed about it. He wanted to be honest with Blake, and with himself, but he didn’t want to drive Blake away. He would rather lie and suffer through…whatever he felt for Blake, than lose the guy entirely.

            So, looking Blake straight in the eyes, Adam said. “No. I didn’t feel anything.”

            He lied. He lied, and Blake, rather than sigh with relief and laugh about the whole thing, stood up straight, said goodbye, and left Adam in the middle of Hollywood Boulevard with nothing but his head to hang. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so beyond sorry for the delay in this. I swear I am never posting a WIP until I have at least half of it done already. Once again, I would like everyone to remember that I do work full time and the last few weeks have been incredibly busy to the point where I can't bear to stare at another Word Doc when I get home. I am off for the next two weeks for Christmas, so I will try and get another chapter up before the New Year.
> 
> The diner which Blake and Adam went to is called Sweet Love Hangover and unfortunately does not exist anymore on Hollywood Boulevard (in the timeline of this fic I believe it did still exist). Also, the pop tart tower is a thing. Just FYI.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, your comments and concrit and support are always appreciated!


	6. Love Somebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time and space can only do so much for a person. Adam has been driving himself into his personal circle of hell, without a word from Blake for two months. It'll take a friend to dig him out, and a cold dose of reality to wake him up.

_You’re such a hard act for me to follow_  
 _Love me today, and leave me tomorrow._  
 _But if I fall for you, I’ll never recover._  
 _If I fall for you,  
_ _I’ll never be the same._

Two Months Later

 

            “Adam, it’s showtime, let’s go!”

            Adam smiled and nodded at Jesse as the rest of the band made their way out to the stage. Turning back to face his own reflection in the mirror, he couldn’t help but reflect on the last two months; it had been a whirlwind tour, city after city, different countries and continents that barely left him enough time to think in between shows. In a way, it had been just what he’d needed – no reminders of home, no chance to question mistakes.

 

            _Snap out of it_ , Adam thought as his brain went into pre-game mode, transforming him into a confident, comfortable, show-stopping being. It was a release to step out onto that stage every night; it meant he could be someone he definitely wasn’t right now.

***

             It had been two months since he had blew it with Blake, two months since he had made the walk of shame back home while Blake drove himself back to Oklahoma. Adam and the band had flown to Asia the same day, meaning that for a nearly 48-hour period, he had been stuck in a bizarre state filled with remorse and jetlag (and more than a little alcohol), unsure if he should fly back to L.A., or carry on as if nothing had happened. He opted for the latter option; after all, wasn’t that what he wanted? Hadn’t he told Blake that it hadn’t meant anything, and that they should just forget about it? Every time Adam thought about their last conversation, he wanted to punch himself in the face. He wished he could have just told Blake that the kiss, whatever it was, had meant _everything_ to him. He thought that by lying, he would have been protecting his and Blake’s friendship, but it seemed that now, nothing could have prevented it. Blake was obviously pissed, and Adam couldn’t figure out why. He had spent countless nights pacing around his room, talking himself through the situation, trying to make sense of it. “He’s either a homophobic asshole, or he knows when he’s being lied to and hates it.” Adam knew in his heart that Blake wasn’t an asshole, that on the show, especially the upcoming auditions they’d shot for the show, the flirting and the banter had been out of control. Adam longed for those times; had they really been just a few months ago? The time in which they’d actually become friends, in which they’d been almost inseparable on set, even done a damn photo shoot together for People Magazine; what blew Adam away in retrospect was that on camera, Blake seemed to enjoy the flirting – performing This Love had only been the tip of the iceberg full of sexual innuendos, mock arm wrestling matches, and more hugs than Adam wanted to remember. Adam had tried to delude himself into believing that Blake was being sincere; that by some divine, incredible intervention, Blake actually felt the same way as he did about him; it was the only scenario that made sense following the kiss, and was yet completely illogical. There were three facts that would not erase themselves from Adam’s mind, thus making everything harder to comprehend: 1. Blake had ended the kiss, 2. Blake definitely wasn’t gay, and 3. Blake was **married**.

            It made Adam’s head hurt to think about it all, so he threw himself into work. When he wasn’t onstage, he locked himself in the hotel room and wrote, just himself and a guitar. He had given up trying not to make every song about Blake. At this point, he didn’t care. We wrote what he wanted, and it served to keep him sane. It was just about all he could ask for.

***

            “Thanks guys, we’ll finish this one tomorrow, alright?” The recording studio was buzzing with activity as everyone scrambled to say goodbye and get out; it was still early and there were dinner dates to make, shows to see, clubs to hop, and families to get home to. Maroon 5’s tour leg was over for now, and they were all back in L.A. Adam was grateful for the guys; most of them had agreed to do one more album, and they were rushing to get it ready before the summer season. Adam had finally finished enough songs to make it work, and he was more than happy to throw himself right into the confines of the recording booth. L.A. might have been home, but he couldn’t even feel comfortable in his own house anymore. The recording booth was the only place he could relax, and in that spirit, he took his time gathering up his stuff.

            “Dude, awesome riff, thanks for that one,” James, the band’s guitarist and one of Adam’s best friends, was probably the one person Adam could count on to genuinely cheer him up. Gene was good for a laugh, but James always knew what Adam needed to hear, and Adam appreciated the hell out of it. He always regretted that he and the other guys never got enough credit in the media; ‘the front man’s burden’ was what they called Adam’s rise to celebrity status.

            “Thanks dude,” Adam grinned, slapping James’ hand down low. “Thanks again for agreeing to get this stuff started, I know you wanted to head home for a few days.”

            “Nah, don’t worry about it,” James said dismissively. “I figure you put in that much work on these songs, we might as well try and get them down before we miss the label’s window.”

            “Right. I feel bad for Jesse though. I know he wants a break. Anyway, I’d better go.” Adam smiled, and threw his guitar on his back in preparation to leave, but James stopped him, setting his own guitar down. That should have been Adam’s first clue; James was scarily in tune with what Adam was thinking, and always knew when something was up. It was the thing Adam loved and hated about him the most.

            “Look, Adam,” James began, his voice low and careful, as though he might spook Adam and make him run away. “I know I haven’t known you as long as Jesse or Mickey, but I know when something’s up. I haven’t seen you write this obsessively since...hell, I’ve NEVER seen you write this obsessively. Jesse told me it’s like when you first broke up with Jane.”

            Adam tensed; he knew he’d been caught out, with no defense at the ready. “I guess, you know Anne and I-“

            “These songs aren’t about Anne, and we both know it.” James cut him off, and Adam surveyed the distance between him and the door. “Listen, come here,” James pulled him over to the studio couch and made him sit facing him. “I want you to tell me because it won’t make a difference to me, and I’m only trying to help you. Is this whole thing about Blake?”

            In the thirty odd years that he had been alive, Adam had seen and done some pretty embarrassing things, including but not limited to balancing a dildo on his chin, but if there was any moment in which he hoped the ground would open up and suck him into the depths of hell, this would be it. He knew James wouldn’t let him leave without an answer, and he knew he couldn’t lie, not anymore. He let his head fall back onto the sofa, and simply muttered, “Fuck.”

            “I knew it!” James yelled before composing himself in order to keep Adam from bolting. “Look Adam, I don’t want to seem insensitive here, but you’re about as subtle as a brick to the head, okay? The good thing is, apparently Blake’s just as dumb. You’re perfect for each other, we all saw it.”

            “What the hell are you talking about man?” Adam asked, incredulous. “You barely saw us together, only at a couple of parties.”

            “You seem to forget that you’re a judge on a national reality television show, buddy.” James smirked. “Besides, it only takes a minute of watching you two make googly eyes at each other to realize how stupid you both are.”

            Adam was shocked, or figured he was, since he couldn’t will himself to get up and walk out of the room right then and there. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adam said, arms crossed and averting James’ gaze petulantly. “Besides, are we forgetting the fact that Blake is married to a chick? And a pretty awesome chick at that.”

            “That’s a complication,” James said, holding up a hand to stop Adam’s protests. “Listen, you should know better than anybody that it takes a while to find yourself, and that just when you think you’ve found out who you are, something or someone comes along and changes you. Look, I don’t want to sit here and tell you what I think – “

            “Oh, no?” Adam interrupted. “Seems to me you’re about ten seconds away from making me lie down Freud style and charging $200 an hour.”

            “Hey, whatever makes you feel better,” James joked, and miraculously gets a smile out of Adam, despite himself. “Seriously, buddy, you need to talk to Blake. He’s probably just as confused and moody as you’ve been the past couple of months. You guys can work it out, just be honest. If he doesn’t feel the same way, then we were wrong, and you can start to put it behind you.”

            “And if he does?” Adam didn’t even want to hope for it, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder. James smiled, sensing the bubble of optimism rise up in his friend. “Then you have a lot of decisions to make, and I’m staying out of it. But at least then you’ll know. You might even have a chance.”

            Adam smiled properly then, grateful and anxious at the coming trials he would have to commit to. He knew Blake hadn’t forgiven him, or hadn’t wanted to be the first to reach out, but James was right; he would have to bite the bullet and hope for the best – even if the best could only be a restored friendship with Blake.

            “There’s that idiot grin we all know and love,” James joked again, smacking Adam across the face before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. “And if you think you have time to think up what you’re going to say,” James continued, handing Adam the slip of paper. “Blake’s in town for a show tonight, here’s the details. The backstage guys know you’re coming, just go in, say what you gotta say, and whatever happens, happens.”

            Adam stared at the slip of paper, and reached over to hug James with one arm. “Thanks man. I don’t even want to know how long you’ve been planning this, but…just, thanks.”

            “Anytime,” James grinned, as he stood up and started to gather up his gear. “Just remember dude: if you love somebody, change is inevitable. You’ll still be you, but you won’t be the same.”

            “Yeah alright Confucius, walk me to my car.”

 

 ***

            It took Adam two hours to actually get to Blake’s show and get backstage, mostly because he turned around several times on the way there, and partly because it took him 30 minutes to talk himself out of the car once he had gotten there. As the assistant led him through the cavernous backstage to Blake’s dressing room, Adam was hit with another temptation to run, but either James’ words or his own pride kept him moving forward. He couldn’t avoid talking to the guy forever. Two months was long enough. _Six months_ , Adam thought, as he reflected back on their entire relationship, of things thought and unsaid in fear. _Six months is long enough_.

            He really hoped Blake wouldn’t punch him in the face.

            As the assistant opened the door, Adam could hear laughter and bottles being clinked in pre-show celebration. That didn’t surprise him as much as the sight did - Blake in the middle of his band members, with Miranda at his side.

            Adam wanted to throw up.

            “Hey Adam!” Miranda swooped in to give him an easy hug, all blonde hair and dimples, the cutest thing in country music (well, except for Blake). Adam couldn’t even pretend to hate her. She was an absolute angel, young and gorgeous, and he knew she adored Blake. In his mind, it had been easy to remove her from the equation, to forget that she was an integral part of Blake’s life, to make her the villain even. But seeing her, seeing them together, ripped him apart and made him want to turn around and forget he had ever come.

            Miranda had always been a good hostess, introducing Adam to the band, and nudging Blake to snap out of his silence and greet the guy. The tension was palpable as Blake held out a hand for Adam to shake; Blake was a hugger by default. When Adam slipped his own hand inside Blake’s, it was 5 seconds of torture – the satisfaction of finally touching Blake again, and the agony of it not being nearly enough.

            “So great seeing you guys,” Adam said to the room, making a point to smile at Miranda. “Can I have a second alone with this guy, there’s something I want to run by him.”

            “Sure,” Miranda smiled. “Come on guys, it’s nearly show time. See you out there, baby.” Miranda stood on tiptoes to kiss Blake’s cheek while he patted her shoulder, not breaking eye contact with Adam.

            The door closed like a bullet ringing out in the silence of the room. Adam and Blake both stood in the centre of the room, unsure of what came next. Blake wouldn’t stop looking at Adam, and Adam wanted to look anywhere but at Blake. When Adam thought about the fact that he was the one on enemy turf, he realized the ridiculousness of the whole situation, and a smile crept slowly onto his face. Glancing at Blake, he was rewarded with an equally big, equally dumb smile, and Adam gave into temptation closing the distance with the biggest hug he’d given n recent memory, one that was strong arms and deep breaths and seemed to go on forever.

            When it did end, Blake was all smiles, offering Adam drinks and telling him to sit down. Adam refused the beer, but took the seat opposite Blake’s, determined to take a page out of James’ book and make sure he saw Blake face on when he heard what he had come there to say.

            “How’ve you been?” Blake asked him.

            “Good,” Adam replied, even if it wasn’t exactly true. “Well, busy, you know. Touring. Writing.” He hesitated for a second, and then continued, “To be honest, I’m exhausted. I missed you.”

            Blake’s smile threatened to take over his entire face. “I missed you too.”

            Adam could feel his stomach flutter, though it could have been preparing to tie itself into knots. “I also wanted to talk about what happened. And I know this probably isn’t the best time,” he rushed on, in spite of Blake’s rapidly changing expression. “But I really need you to listen until I’m done. “ Blake opened his mouth to respond or protest, whichever Adam wasn’t sure, as he closed his mouth and sat back, forcing Adam to take a deep breath, and try to get it all out.

            “After that night,” he began, “you asked me if I had felt…anything, and I said no. Well…I lied.” Adam surveyed Blake’s face for any kind of reaction. While his eyes seemed to flare at his words, his expression remained passive. Adam went on. “I don’t know how it happened, and I know you’re probably not going to want to hear this, but that kiss was amazing. Yes, I felt something, yes I was pissed off when you left the room, but I lied because I was afraid you’d get weird about it. Turns out lying made it weird.”

            _Breathe, idiot, breathe!_ Adam sucked in another deep breath before rushing on. “I know with the show we flirt and we have this dumb bromance thing happening, and I know you do your fair share, but if it’s going to be too weird for you, I’d settle for just being your friend again. Can we do that?”

            In the time it took for Blake to consider, Adam thought he would pass out, but the resilient beating of his heart made sure he would stay upright and awake for whatever came next. As Blake opened his mouth, Adam thought his heart might jump into his own.

            “I just have one question,” Blake said. “and I want you to tell the truth no matter what. This, me and you, us; what do you want it to be?”

            _Oh you spectacular asshole_ , Adam thought. Without a second’s hesitation, he said, “I want us to be friends.”  But there was more, and Adam knew Blake wouldn’t accept that answer without the whole truth. “Look,” Adam started, resisting the urge to bury his head in his hands. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you,” Adam breathed out. “But I know you have a life with Miranda and I know you couldn’t possibly feel the same way about me.”

            “How do you know?”

            Adam’s heart skipped a beat.

            “What?’           

            Blake’s laugh was something that sounded sad and angry and happy all at once. Leaning forward in his chair, he said, “Adam you never once asked me how I felt about it. I wanted to talk about it, and you blew it off. Didn’t you ever think about how I was the one who kissed you?”

            “Yeah, but I figured the heroic amount of alcohol and pot had something to do with it.”

            Blake laughed again. “True, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want it.”

            Adam was pretty sure he was going to pass out now, or have a heart attack. “What are you saying?”

            “I don’t know how it happened either, but…I like you too.”

            Adam waited for relief and happiness to wash over him, resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss Blake on his stupid face. But instead of reprieve from the questions in his mind, he was flooded with more, and a surprising surge of anger.

            “Why didn’t you just tell me?” he said, exasperated, standing up. His dominance didn’t last long, as Blake stood and took back the inches he would always have on Adam, annoyance etched on his face.

            “What, like you told me?” Blake said bitterly. “You came here Adam, no phone call, no message, nothing for two months, what was I supposed to think?”

            “Two way street Shelton,” Adam responded, quickly losing his cool. “I thought you wanted space so we could put this thing behind us! If you wanted to talk to me, what was stopping you?”

            “My wife!”

            Blake’s face looked as though it might burst into flames any second, and Adam almost wanted to apologize for asking. Blake turned away and grabbed his drink. “I love Miranda,” he said, after a long swig of his beer. “I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t know what this is between us, and I don’t want things to change, but I needed to talk to you. I need to figure this out.”

            “Yeah, well,” Adam said coolly, heading for the door. “Let me know when you figure out what you want. Just keep in mind I’m not about to turn Mormon for you.” With his hand on the door handle, Adam remembered what James had said before they’d left, and in his current state of mind, it seemed like something Blake needed to hear. “If you love somebody, Blake, change is inevitable.”

 

 ***

            Adam didn’t know how long it had taken him to get out of the venue, what route he had taken to get home, how many times he had talked himself out of turning around to go back; now, as he walked into his dark house, glancing around the foyer and kitchen, sitting on the couch where that kiss had happened so long ago, Adam thought, _You really can’t come home anymore_. Home was different now. He was different now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay, the holidays and work ended up getting the better of me. This one's a bit longer, so hopefully that'll start to make up for it. Thanks again to Bubbles and Becks for reading it over. If anything seems off, please let me know and I'll try to explain my reasoning behind it.
> 
> Also, please remember that this is fictional. I write the people as they exist in my head for my own amusement and for a select group of others. I understand if you find it problematic that I write and ship this couple in particular, and that I choose to include the real-life spouse of one of them, but I don't wish ill on any of the real-life counterparts, nor do I want to hurt them in anyway. If you don't like it, please do not read it.


	7. Ladykiller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hours after Adam left Blake backstage to ponder over their revelations, he's still conflicted over what the next step is. Or he is, until he's visited by a Mrs. Blake Shelton, who has a few words, and a deal to make.

_Baby it's not alright_   
_The second that you turn your back he'll be outta sight_   
_Baby he'll break your heart, the second that you spend the night apart_   
_How could you do it? Oh, how could you walk away from everything we made?_

            When in doubt, Adam believed in the healing power of yoga. Neither emotional distress nor physical pain stood a chance against deep breaths and stretching in his mind, and at that moment, Adam felt like he was going through both; he sat in the lotus position in the exact same spot he had collapsed in an hour ago, his head aching as it played back every word Blake had said to him, every inadequate response he had tried to give. He probably shouldn’t have lost his temper, but Blake was infuriating. How could he expect Adam to tell the truth when Blake had been keeping his own feelings locked in the proverbial closet?

            _He likes you_.

            “No.”

            He spoke the word aloud as if manifesting denial made the thought go away. Adam took a deep breath, trying for the umpteenth time to clear his mind. His goal was to banish thoughts and feelings for the time being; to block out all sights and sounds besides his own breathing. Unfortunately, no amount of mind power could block out the buzzing of a very insistent gate intercom.

            “Go away!” Adam yelled, knowing that his voice wouldn’t reach the person hammering on his gate. He fell sideways, his arms and legs splaying in all directions in a sign of defeat. He closed his eyes again; he could do it. He could just lie here forever until wild dogs came to drag him away. It wasn’t an unpleasant prospect; he liked dogs, and he could probably convince them not to eat his arms in exchange for belly rubs. They would live together in the woods, happily ever after.

            “And we wouldn’t need a goddamn gate!” Adam yelled over the unrelenting buzzing. He sighed, and abandoned his plans to become the dog whisperer in favor of keeping his sanity; he pressed the button for the intercom. 

            “What is it?” Blunt, but then again, whoever was at his gate had probably almost broken his buzzer.

            “Let me in Adam.” A soft, distorted Southern accent sounded through the room.

            “Who is this?”

            “It’s Miranda.”

            Adam would have gladly given up his entire body to wild dogs at that moment. He was struck dumb as to why Blake’s wife would have come all the way over for any reason other than to beat the shit out of him (he had no doubt in his mind that she could, nor did he doubt that she owned multiple firearms), but he could either face her and get it over with, or cower under his bed and wait for her to scale the wall and come after him anyway.

            _Miranda is pretty scary when she wants to be_ , Adam thought as he pressed the gate release to let her in.

            He held the door open for her as she walked up to the house, her expression unreadable, her blonde hair bouncing as she took in her surroundings. It took him a minute to remember that she hadn’t actually been in his house before.

            “Can I take your coat?” Adam asked awkwardly.

            “No,” Miranda said as she walked towards the living room. “I won’t be staying long.”

            _Good_ , Adam thought. _I always wanted a quick and painless death_. “Can I get you anything, a drink? Water? Tea? Tequila?” Adam asked, desperate for a reason to get out of range of her for a minute or two.

            Miranda smiled, and Adam remembered why Blake chose her; Miranda was gorgeous, but she was also warm, kind, and badass as all get out. The smile put him at ease, because no amount of Hollywood bullshit could make her fake that smile for anyone.

            “Relax Adam,” she laughed. “I’m not here to kill you. I just want to talk for ten minutes, then I’ll be out of here. Girl scout’s honor.”

            “Were you ever actually in the girl scouts?” Adam pondered.

            “Honorary,” Miranda grinned. “Come on, chill out, be a big boy, and offer me a seat. This won’t take long.”

            So they sat across from one another in armchairs (Adam was sure to steer her away from the red loveseat that had played host to Adam and Blake’s ill-fated dalliance), both on the edge of their seats, both understanding of the tension and discomfort of the situation. Adam held his breath, and waited for the boom.

            “Are you in love with my husband?”

            There it was; Adam let out a huff that could either be construed as a laugh or a sob, though neither would help him in this situation. “Straight to the point then, huh?”

            “You know me, no bullshit,” Miranda shrugged. “It’s why Blake and I get along so well.”

            “Miranda, I-“

            “Nuh uh honey,” Miranda cut him off sharply. “I don’t do bullshit, so I expect none back. Yes or no: Are you in love with my husband?”

            The silence in the room was palpable. Adam had no words. He wasn’t shocked; he just didn’t know what to say to the woman in front of him.

            “Have you ever seen the play '8'? The one based on the transcripts from the Prop 8 trial?” Adam asked.           

            “Is that a yes?”

            “Do I have to be gay to want marriage equality?” Adam barely held onto his temper before realizing that he was the one about to be sentenced and executed if he couldn’t make his point. “There’s a line in there where this guy who’s against marriage equality is asked a question where he can only say ‘Yes, No, or I Don’t Know.’ And the guy says ‘I know the answer but I can’t say yes or no, I can answer in a brief sentence.”

            “Do you have a point?”

            “You asked me if I’m in love with Blake," Adam continued. "I can’t answer you yes or no, but I sure know the answer. In a brief sentence, the whole thing is… complicated.”

            “Complicated?” Miranda repeated blankly.

            “…Yeah.”

            “You think it’s ‘complicated’ that you may or may not be in love with my husband, while he may or may not have the same feelings for you, and I’m stuck in the middle of all this with a ring on my finger that may or may not mean anything?

            “…Yeah.”

            Miranda rolled her eyes, though a laugh escaped her. Adam couldn’t blame her; the whole situation was more than ridiculous, and she had every right to kick his ass to kingdom come. He just didn’t feel the need to pour his heart out to Miranda, of all people.

            Adam wondered what Cosmopolitan magazine would write about saying I love you to your crush’s wife first.

            “Look,” Miranda said. “Here’s where I stand: Blake is my husband, and I love him to death. I would run into a burning building for him without thinking twice, so I’m not about to give him up if I think we can’t work this out.”

            Guilt washed over Adam has his heart sank into his stomach. He could make his case for how he cared about Blake too, but at the end of the day, Miranda was the one with the ring; he would be the one breaking up a marriage.

            “So you want me to stay out of the way,” Adam said, his eyes focused on one spot on the floor. “Talk to him when we do the show and that’s it. Let you guys move on.”

            He felt a hand on his arm, a reassuring pat; when he looked at Miranda, her gaze had softened a bit, and she stared back at him with a mixture of affection and pity. Adam wasn’t sure which feeling was worse.

            “Adam,” Miranda began, leaning forward further, forcing Adam to look her in the eye. “I told you I love Blake. I would do anything to make him happy,” she paused, and Adam saw her take a short breath before she rattled on, desperate, it seemed, to get on with it. “And that includes stepping aside for someone else.”

            Adam’s head shot up. “So what, the minute he falls in love with someone, you’re ready to move out?”

            “I didn’t say I wouldn’t fight for him,” Miranda smiles softly. “But I know you guys love each other, be it as friends or…whatever. I want you to work it out, but I don’t want to be the villain in all of it. If your relationship is the real deal, the ‘can’t breathe-can’t sleep-reach for the stars-over the fence’ kind of real, then I’m out.  It wouldn’t have worked in the long run for Blake and me in that case anyway. At least this way, no one gets hurt more than they have to.”

            Adam pondered the proposition; he and Blake would have to put themselves in the same room long enough to actually talk through their relationship and figure out where they stand. He had about a 50/50 chance of getting everything he had ever wanted with Blake – and a 50/50 chance of feeling more rejected than ever before.

            “I promise I won’t make him hate you. Hell, I can’t even hate you, Ran,” Adam said, with about as wide a smile as he could get away with under the circumstances. Her expression was just as soft, just as exhausted, though just as fond.

            “I love you too,” she shot back. “But like I said, I’m still going to fight for him.  For all I know, you two will decide you love each other, and a month later you’ll find someone else, and I’ll have a bunch of Blake pieces to pick up.”

            “I wouldn’t do th – “

            “Maybe not,” Miranda continued. “But you have a reputation Adam. Blake’s had his share of failed relationships but I know he’s capable of making something stick. We’re trying to build a life together. It’s not okay for you to take him away from it if the first night you guys spend away from each other, you’re in someone else’s bed. If he walks away from all of it for you, you’d better be prepared to give him everything I would.”

            Adam could only nod, and Miranda stood, effectively ending their Mexican standoff (or sit down, rather) scene. She stared down at Adam, the look of pity and affection still mixed on her face. She gave him a little pat on the cheek and said, “I’ll tell Blake to call you. The quicker you guys work this out, the quicker we can all get on with our lives.”

            Adam nodded again, and Miranda walked away, headed for the door, for her car, headed back to Blake. Adam stood and called out, “Miranda?”

            She turned, and Adam couldn’t help but smile as he said, “You really are amazing.”

            With a grin, she replied, “I know. Oh, and for the record? I don’t blame you one bit.”

            They shared a look that only two people who love the same person can share; where they both see the person they love in their minds eye for all their graces and faults, and in that shared experience, the love grows that much stronger. Then it ended, and Adam was alone again. He turned, and slammed his head against the wall, hoping to create a another cause for his headache, or blackout entirely for release from this whole day. Though as his headache grew, there was also hope, and a smile just barely crossed his face before he shuffled off to the sanctuary of his bed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miranda for Wife of the Year.  
> I hope everyone understands what I tried to do with this chapter; I didn't want to take on this story and leave Miranda out of it entirely, nor did I want to turn her into the evil wife. I feel like she would be the kind of person to understand this situation. Also, the lyrics from Overexposed are from her perspective.
> 
> Many thanks to Becks and Bubbles again for looking this over, and to everyone who waited so long for this chapter. Comments and concrit is always appreciated.


	8. Fortune Teller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam isn't the type to sit by the phone and wait for someone to sweep him off his feet. He really isn't. He's totally not doing that. He's not going completely out of his mind about it either.  
> When he and Blake finally see each other post-MirandaGate, it's conversation time. But with all the advice from friends and his own past experiences, sometimes Adam just wants his brain to shut up for a second.

_I'll never know  
How the future will go  
I don't know what to tell you,  
I'm not a fortune teller  
I'll never change,  
But I want you to stay_ __  


            Hope is a dangerous thing to have, particularly when it comes to love. The whole sadistic truth about being in love with someone is that it splits the mind in half; one half is overtaken by love and thoughts of the other person. It forces one to consider and obsess over all the features of that other person to the point where life seems meaningless without them. It is the half of the mind that makes you wonder how you ever went without being in love at all.

            All the other half does is agonize over how everything can go wrong.

            Unfortunately, Adam had been in too many failed and pointless relationships that his body could no longer consider the workings of the love-obsessed mind. He tended to focus on the negative, considering every scenario in which his relationship could go from perfect to over in 0.2 seconds. It was this reason that kept him from picking up the phone and calling Blake himself.

            It wasn’t that he didn’t try. After Miranda’s blessing (of sorts), Adam knew that he had to at least give it a shot at making this thing work. It just seemed that every time he went to call Blake, something would happen: Gene would call instead asking him to go out, the band would want to work on stuff for the album, his management would call him in for meetings, his dog Frankie would want to go for a walk (okay that last one may have actually been him avoiding the situation). Adam almost gave in and texted him, but then he remembered how much Blake loved to text and they would probably get caught up in a totally different conversation until Adam gave in and sent him a picture of his junk, and would have to subsequently bury himself in a deep dark hole for the rest of his life. So the conversation lines were held up for the time being.

            Adam knew he was being a coward. By all rights, he should have picked up the phone the minute Miranda left, should have called Blake, told him to come over, made his grand gesture of love, and accepted whatever outcome. He should have done that, and he would have, if Miranda hadn’t gotten inside his head.

            _“For all I know, you two will decide you love each other, and a month later you’ll find someone else, and I’ll have a bunch of Blake pieces to pick up.”_

            Maybe she was right; maybe they should save themselves and everyone around them the heartache and just forget about it. Adam wasn’t even sure if he could be in a relationship anymore; what would happen to him and Blake when it became a painfully obvious fact?

            Besides, Miranda had said she would tell Blake to call him, and his cell phone wasn’t exactly ringing off the hook. Maybe Blake had changed his mind. Maybe Miranda had done her fighting and won already. Or maybe Blake was having the same crisis of faith Adam was having, and they really were too much alike for their own good. The maybes and what ifs swirling around the whole situation just made Adam want to slam his head into the wall again (he was actually making quite an impressive dent) until all the questions stopped.

            But that was the point; the questions hadn’t even really begun. They wouldn’t until he could actually talk to Blake.

***

            After a week of picking up phones and subsequently tossing them aside, Adam did actually have work to do. The Television Critics Association (or TCAs as everyone in Hollywood muttered in September and January when shows were premiering or coming back from hiatus) had asked NBC to arrange a panel for The Voice, where the press could pose questions to the producers and the judges – including both Adam and Blake. Adam had considered blowing it off, but as both his manager and publicist were already threatening to quit, he figured it wouldn’t be a good idea.

            As he was led backstage to the green room at the TCAs, Adam hoped he wouldn’t be the first one there. He knew Christina would probably be last, but as long as Cee Lo and Carson were also there, he could probably avoid what promised to be a very awkward reunion with Blake.

            No such luck.

            There was Blake, early as usual, pacing about the green room in his usual long strides. Adam didn’t even have time to contemplate an exit strategy; as he hovered in the doorway, Blake turned and saw him, he face contorting into something between happiness and nausea. Adam managed a half smile as his brain went into meltdown mode. His legs felt like lead as he stepped into the room, though he made sure to keep to one side of the room. What was it that Blake had taught him about hunting? _Keep your distance and let the animal come to you_. What was Blake but a 12-point buck in this situation? Adam was making a mental note to never tell Blake about that comparison when he realized that Blake had closed the gap between them.

            “Hi.”

            Blake’s voice and sudden smile were, again, like coming home. “Hey yourself,” Adam returned, his guard letting down enough to smile back. It was awkward, but the revelation that they were still _them_ was enough to set Adam at ease. “Listen, about the last time – “

            “Not here!” Blake interrupted, holding up a hand. His face softened when he saw the surprise and hurt on Adam’s face. “It’s just,” Blake went on, his voice low. “When we have this conversation I don’t want any interruptions. Just you and me. So today, can we just be friends again?’

            Adam nodded, a bit uneasy but willing to go along with Blake for now. Blake went and grabbed them both some water, but beyond that, there wasn’t much time to dwell on the terms of détente, because at that moment, Christina burst into the room, a blonde bombshell bursting with energy, with hellos and kisses and hugs. Cee Lo followed soon after, cradling his Persian white cat Purrrfect in his arms, like a reformed Bond villain who couldn’t give up all his quirks.

            “Hello my babies!” Cee Lo drawled, doling out secret handshakes while somehow managing to balance his cat in the other arm.  
            “What the hell is that thing, and why is it looking at me?” Blake cried out. While Cee Lo smirked and thrust Purrrfect in Blake’s horrified face, Adam chatted with Christina. She was like a sister to him – annoying as hell, but you couldn’t help but love her. She also had the marked sisterly quality of knowing exactly how Adam was feeling at any given time.

            “So,” Christina said, perfectly shaped eyebrow raised at Adam. “You and Blake, huh?”

            Adam really should have known better than to take a drink before talking to Christina. As such, he spent the next minute trying to keep his lungs in his chest while he coughed, Christina suppressing laughter as she patted him on the back. “Does **everyone** know?!” Adam hissed incredulously.

            “Oh honey, no!” Christina laughed. “I mean, they won’t be surprised, trust me. I heard you talking before I came in.”

            “Oh god.” Adam raked a hand over his face, stressed now as he considered how many other people had overheard them in the last few months – at the restaurant after the first night, backstage at Blake’s show, and now here. Adam totally got Blake’s reasoning for not talking now.

            “Calm down, Adam, it’ll be fine,” Christina said. “But seriously, I want all the details. Come on, when did it start? Did you tell Miranda? Oh my god, what did she say?”

            Adam held up a hand, tempted to press it against her mouth to shut her up, but pulled her close and whispered, “I don’t even know if it’s… _anything_ at this point, so I’m not going to tell you all the particulars! Just promise me you won’t say anything.” Adam pleaded, knowing that if he begged, Christina would take pity on him. “I promise I’ll tell you everything after it’s sorted out, okay, but not now.”

            “Fine,” she sighed dramatically before allowing her smile to take over. “Just for the record though, I don’t blame him one bit.”

            Adam laughed, “So you, what, blame me?”

            “No,” she smirked. “You’re impossible to not fall in love with.”

            Adam’s face softened, and couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her middle, hugging so tightly he had to stop himself from lifting her off the ground. Christina’s smacked him on the back of the head and he let go as she rubbed her stomach, “Jesus, see if I give you a compliment again! I think you bruised my liver!”

            “Drink and we’re even?” Adam offered

            “Done!” Christina said, smiling. “Seriously though, are you happy?”

            Adam glanced over at Blake, who had curled up in one corner of the green room couch in an effort to get away from the cat, who in turn proceeded to walk across his shoulders and down to settle in his lap. Blake’s face was perfectly grumpy, though his hands reached out voluntarily to stroke the cat and snap a picture with his phone. It was a picture that was just so very indicative of Blake. Turning back to Christina, Adam said:

            “I think I could be.”

***

            In total, the panel and interview sessions lasted a few hours, long enough to make Adam antsy enough that he needed to bounce around backstage before his energy levels were sapped and he could comfortably sit in a chair again. Amongst all the bouncing, there was a moment when he thought he could have run an entire marathon; as he finished jumping, Adam turned around and saw Blake leaning against the wall, staring at him in a way that made Adam feel like the deer in headlights this time; Blake didn’t say anything, didn’t even take a step forward. But his eyes were trained on Adam for the rest of the day, making Adam feel both like an anomaly and the most interesting person in the room. The hopeful half of his brain was working overtime, making use of all the time it had spent dormant while Adam had done nothing but fret the week before.

            As everything came to a close and people gathered their things to leave, Adam found himself hanging back to that he could talk to Blake. Christina kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “I’m rooting for you!” When she was gone, Adam turned to Blake, whose eyes were still trained on him. Blake motioned towards the door with his head, a wordless“Let’s go.”

            Adam was immediately thankful that he had driven himself that day. There would be no awkward silent truck ride back to his place where the two halves of his mind waged war. Instead, he focused on driving, perhaps glimpsing into his rearview mirror back at Blake in his truck one too many times.

            Finally they were back at Adam’s house. Cars parked, the door unlocked, an ecstatic Frankie rubbed down by Blake. It was as though no time had passed since the month they’d spent together the previous year.

            “She still loves me more than you, huh?” Blake grinned up at Adam as he gave Frankie a last pat on the head. 

            “Pfft, please, I love you way more than her,” Adam grinned back, but Blake’s smile fell and he realized what he had said. “Sorry. Bad joke.”

            “It’s okay,” Blake assured him. “That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

            Adam gave a weak smile, and gestured into the living room. As when Miranda had visited he steered them both clear of their disreputable loveseat (Adam seriously was going to have to burn it). Blake sat on another couch and threw his legs up onto the adjacent coffee table, patting the seat beside him expectantly, but Adam shook his head.

            “I think until we both talk about this, there needs to be at least one piece of furniture between us at all times,” Adam half joked, easing himself into a low black armchair across from him. It was a blessing that the awkwardness between them had dissolved. The only problem now was that another kind of tension had overtaken them, one that they had both fought for months to suppress before it had bubbled over in that very room. Adam knew the only sensible precautions were distance, obstacles, and loose clothing. Two out of three wasn’t bad.

             Blake chuckled, “Fair enough. I guess I should have thought of that. I remember what happened the last time we sat too close.”

            Adam could feel his face turn a deep shade of red. “I swear to god I’ll punch you in the face, Shelton.”

            Blake laughed, “I’m sorry. No seriously, I am. That was all me, I shouldn’t have jumped you like that. I wanted to, but I should have known it’d make things more complicated.”

            “Well there was one good thing about it,” Adam said.

            “You mean besides my excellent kissing skills?” Blake smirked

            Adam shook his head in disbelief and laughed, “Okay two things!” He leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped while he stared up at Blake. “We realized that we both wanted the same thing.” He said, smiling.

            “Do we though?”

            Adam’s smile faded. “What’s that supposed to mean?’           

            Blake sighed and sat up. He ran a hand through his hair before he said, “I really like you Adam. I mean, it scares me how much I like you. I want to make this work so bad, I’m ready to give up on my marriage, probably on my career just to make it happen.”

            Adam focused on his breathing as Blake spoke, not sure if his heart was ready to beat out of his chest or sink to the bottom of his stomach.

            “But the way you got freaked out about the first kiss, and then I didn’t hear from you for a month, I just don’t know if you’re ready for this.” Blake looked expectantly at Adam, as though hoping he would burst in with an affirmation that he was ready. Adam stayed silent.

            “Look,” Blake sighed. “I wanted us to talk about this together. I think you’ve had enough of people talking at you; I need to hear what you think. If Miranda taught me anything it’s that I need to communicate more, so here I am.”

            “That’s all she taught you?”

            “Well that, and that I’m an asshole.” Blake grinned. “All wonderful life lessons I hope to pass on to you someday.”

            “God, Blake.” Adam let his head hang as he contemplated the situation for the umpteenth time. “Alright,” he sat up again, braced on the edge of his seat. “You want the truth?” Blake sat up straighter and waited for the words. Adam wasn’t sure how long Blake had been waiting for this conversation to take place, but the pressure threatened to cave in on him if he didn’t say something in that moment.

            “I’m pretty sure you could be the best thing to ever happen to me. Hell, I know that you are, even just as a friend. But I’ve been in so many fucked up relationships, I don’t know if I can even do this anymore. I don’t want to screw this up.”

            Blake stared at him in disbelief. “So you don’t even want to try?”

            Adam huffed, “I don’t want to be the reason your marriage fails. I don’t want to be the headline on every tabloid while they say our relationship is an experiment gone wrong. I don’t want to give every lunatic with access to a video camera the ammo they need to claim that ‘gay people are ruining American values.’ I just don’t want us to take the chance and have it blow up in our face. Can you see where I’m coming from?”

            Blake nodded, his eyes downcast, his mouth forced into a tight line. “So that’s it then?”

            “No,” Adam said softly, the hopeful half of his brain finally speaking up. “I don’t think I can stop thinking about you even if I wanted to.”

            Whether it was admitting those words to Blake, or whether the emotions in the room had finally reached a boiling point, the two of them erupted out of their seats and slammed their mouths together. Adam wondered if the comparison between Blake and home would ever stop being accurate; he found comfort in the softness of Blake’s lips, warmth in the heat of his mouth, happiness in the sensations in sent through his entire body. The table between them prevented them from getting too close; Adam could only take pleasure in Blake’s mouth against his, and in the hands that pressed against the side of his face, which told him that Blake had needed this moment just as much as he had.

            While the kiss may half felt like it had lasted an hour, in reality the moment was short lived. Blake’s phone went off, causing him to groan and press his forehead against Adam’s in a sign of reluctance.

            “I guess that’s my cue,” Blake said, and slipped his phone back into his pocket, giving Adam a chance to catch his breath. He knew there was nothing else to be said, yet Blake opened his mouth one more time.

            “I’m sorry, I know I said we needed to talk but, look, I can’t help it. I’ll go. Just…don’t run away from me this time Adam,” Blake said, as both a warning and a request. “I promise I’ll give you some time, but we do need to talk again. But can I give you some advice?”

            Adam nodded, unable to speak. Blake smiled again, and Adam couldn’t remember feeling more love from one look in his life.

            “Don’t think about what you don’t want,” Blake finally said, as he turned to leave. “Love’s about getting what you want, right?”

            Adam really needed to stop letting people walk out on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Adam is Sad.
> 
> I am very sorry again for how long this took to update. I do my best writing during the week, but work was just insane this month so it took a little longer to get everything situated. Once again, thank you to everyone who has commented or sent me messages about the fic, I love you guys!
> 
> Thanks again to my BetaBabes, Bubbles and Becks.


	9. Sad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having talked to Blake, Adam does some thinking about their future possibilities. Just when he thinks that he and Blake can't possibly make it work under any circumstances, Adam sees the light at the end of the tunnel (and it isn't the train).

_I’m scared to death that there may not be another one like this._   
_And I confess that I’m only holding on by a thin, thin thread._   
_I’m kicking the curb because you never heard_   
_the words that you needed so bad,_   
_and I’m kicking the dirt cause I never gave you_   
_the things that you needed to hear_

 

            In desperate times, Adam took to the balcony; the high perch that overlooked Hollywood where it seemed no one could touch him, where he could lob grenades and hot oil at intruders if they did manage to find him and attempt to scale the wall (it was a plan he and Gene had put a lot of thought into at some drug-induced point or another). In his more sober moments, Adam called the balcony his sanctuary, where he could watch the sun disappear behind trees and buildings from his pile of cushions, stay up all night as musical melancholy is pumped steadily into his brain until the sun makes it’s reappearance, the hours seeming like minutes to his sleepless mind.

            After Blake had left, Adam had paced over every square inch of his house before finally settling in on the balcony for what seemed like the long haul. The whole situation (do not say affair, _do not say affair_ ) had him scared to death, and he didn’t quite know how to deal with it. Blake told him to focus on what he wanted to happen, but Adam couldn’t help but see the problems inherent with every scenario.

            One, he and Blake go for it, take the big leap into the great unknown and start dating. Miranda had already agreed to let them be, and Christina had said no one would really be that surprised. Adam couldn’t help but smile as he imagined the crew of The Voice applauding them as they walked into the studio for the first time as an actual couple, all of them cashing in on some “Will They, Won’t They” pool. _Assholes_ , he laughed to himself. But he could also see what Christina didn’t choose to; the millions of people who would be shocked, the ones who would likely stop buying music from either of them, write angry letters to them both, petition NBC to kick them off The Voice. The backlash from conservative groups would be unprecedented, using their celebrity status as an opportunity to show how homosexuality is a choice and a fickle state of mind, and then Adam would have the bigger problem of how to dispose of all the bodies and not get caught. He had grown up protecting his brother from that kind of attention and advocating for his brother’s rights as a gay man, so he knew that in time, people would forget it, or learn to educate themselves, and eventually the subject would drop. Adam just wasn’t sure if he and Blake would survive the scrutiny for that long.

            Which leads to possibility number two – they start dating, but they keep it a secret. At least, they take it slow; they deal with Blake and Miranda’s divorce first, let the press exhaust itself that story, and keep their hands to themselves in public in the meantime. This, Adam is convinced, is how it will have to go if they actually manage to get their act together. Still, the problem of sneaking around poses the obvious problem: What happens when they get caught? Resentment from the fans, elation (disguised as anger) from the media, there were so many ways for it to go wrong. The last thing Adam wanted was to be forced to come out by some scumbag Perez Hilton blogger; he wanted this to be on their terms, his and Blake’s only, or no deal.

            That led to the problem with scenario number three, wherein Blake and Adam give it up as a bad idea, stay friends, and go on with their lives as planned.  There would be no messy breakups, no media, no explanations; everything would go back to normal.

            The problem was that Adam didn’t want things to go back to normal. Adam didn’t want to go on just being Blake’s friend.

            Suddenly, Adam knew what he really wanted.

            If anyone asked him afterwards when it was that he knew he was in love with Blake Shelton, Adam would forever cite that moment when he realized he would rather face all the demons and ignorance of the world than live without Blake Shelton by his side.  That idea rocked Adam to his very core, so much that he had to stand and jump and raise his face to the new sun, his face splitting in half by the power of his smile. He finally knew what he wanted.

            He wanted Blake Shelton, and he would do anything to get him.

***

            Adam leaned on the balcony rail as he dialed, impatiently tapping the stone until the line picked up.

            “Hello?”           

            “James, it’s me.”

            “Adam? Dude it’s 8 in the morning, please don’t drag me into your new wave early morning yoga crap.”

            “I know what I want.” Adam waited, the line silent as James contemplated the news.

            Finally, he heard a shout of laughter before James said, “Well Halle-fucking-lujah!”

            Adam couldn’t stop smiling as new ideas and possibilities rolled through his mind, the negativities slowly purging themselves as he began to accept himself and Blake as inevitability. There was still so much to do, decide, and discuss, but Adam was ready to fight now. He thought back to Miranda and how she had warned him to be ready to offer everything that she could. Well Adam was sure that there was no one else for him but Blake. He was going to try and prove it to him, no matter what it cost, no matter if Blake decided it wasn’t worth the risk in the end. At least he could say that he tried. Adam just did not want to be sad about love anymore. Now was the time to show and tell everything he felt and wanted. He was going to be happy.

            “So, “ he said to James, who sounded much less groggy and much more excited now that Adam had passed through the veil of obtuseness at long last. “Are you going to help me do this?”

            James laughed and said, “Let’s make Blake fall in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad, or "where Adam gets his shit together and I am James Valentine"
> 
> Apologies for the time it took to write this and for it's rather short length. There's only so much soul searching I can make Adam do in this thing.  
> Thanks to Bubbles and Becky again for being my tester audience and suggesting I just skip over the next chapter and get to the good stuff in Doin Dirt. No dice guys.
> 
> Also I'm aware that this couple is getting a little bit more publicity lately (thanks E!Online and the creeps who run The Voice social media, god bless your hearts), so again I WRITE THIS FOR FUN and not out of some delusion that the two people in question are actually together. It's not my fault they're both dumb and act really in love in public, I'm sorry.  
> Sigh. Bless 'em.  
> VOTE SHEVINE IN THE E ONLINE POLL! http://ca.eonline.com/news/397746/fantasy-tv-couples-vote-in-round-3


	10. Tickets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake promised Adam some space, so that's what he's giving him. So what if it's taking all of his sanity not to crack and call him? So what if he's nervous? So what if someone leaves a ticket to Maroon 5's show on his doorstep? He can totally handle all of that. (In which Blake actually does show restraint in light of what he wants)

_Your perfect little body  
_ _Makes me fall apart_

            Blake tapped his fingers against the cool glass, torn between drinking the contents or throwing the whole thing at the wall; not wanting to waste good booze or cause unnecessary mess, Blake downed it in one, and laid the empty glass gently back on the table before taking out his phone for the hundredth time that day. He scrolled through his contacts, found the one he wanted, and just as he was about to give in and hit “Call”, he shove the whole thing in his pocket with a frustrated huff.

            He had told Adam he would give him space, promised to give him time to think about what it was he really wanted, but the waiting was killing him. He was alone in LA, Miranda having gone out on tour again; they had both admitted the space would do them good, no matter what the future held for them. She had been an absolute saint, and it killed Blake that he’d put them both through this. In truth, he was a wreck; with the press, he put on his usual smile, stayed as good natured as he ever was, but in private, it was taking every ounce of strength he had left not to pick up the goddamn phone and just talk to Adam.

            _And say what?_ Blake wasn’t sure what else he could say to try and win Adam over. Short of getting on his knees and begging (and as fun as that prospect sounded), he was stuck playing the waiting game, hoping that Adam would come to own conclusions and decide that he wanted Blake as much as Blake wanted him. The whole concept of giving Adam some space had seemed like a good idea at first, but now he was convinced it was complete and utter bullshit.

            Blake had spent too much time thinking over the past few months; he still couldn’t believe that he had been the one to kiss Adam, to start all of this. His unexplainable crush had become something else, something he had thought was a monster, an avoidable obstacle that threatened to destroy the both of them. The months of not talking to one of his best friends, the time he spent reflecting on everything they’d been through had made Blake realize that it was like coming out the other end of a hall of mirrors; everything that was distorted about his life suddenly came into focus.

            Blake shook his head, eager to dislodge any thoughts of Adam for the time being; it only set his nerves on edge to think that Adam wouldn’t feel the same way. He padded out of the kitchen, intent on ending up face down on some (hopefully soft) surface. He made it as far as his den, the surface of choice being a couch way too small to lie face down on, but Blake was beyond caring. He was sick of being alone in this ridiculously large house all on his own; he was staying on this couch until something caught his attention for the better, or until he passed out and no longer had the ability to give a damn. Whichever one came first.

            No sooner than the thought passed through his mind, there was a knock at the door. Blake’s eyes shot open suddenly, and he tried to push himself up and off of the couch, before eventually rolling to the floor and stumbling to his feet. There were only two people he knew who would be able to bypass the gate and want to surprise him by knocking; one was Miranda, and she was, as far as he knew, still on tour.

            The other was Adam.

            Blake flew to the front door and yanked it open, expecting to see Adam in front of him, stupid t-shirt and hair and smile and everything, but there was no one; the only thing he found as he stepped outside with a thin, white envelope laid on the front step. Blake ripped it open and out slid a single ticket; the ticket was for Maroon 5’s last concert in LA, set for that night, and had a note attached that said “ _Backstage, after the show. If you want.”_

            Blake turned the note over and over, but it was already enough to spark a grin, which grew a smile and sent his whole body flying back into the house to shower, change, and call a car.

            He knew what he wanted.

***

            If Blake had been hoping for star treatment, he would have been disappointed; it’s not a stadium gig, but the venue was by no means small. The whole thing felt very ‘invite only’, probably drummed up by some label exec or producer to offer V.V.I.P tickets to the fans. That said, there wasn’t much in the way of frills, and Blake wasn’t about to ask for backstage access. After all, the note had said ‘after’ the show; what was two more hours in the scheme of things? Blake sighed and looked for the bar.

            Blake slipped in amongst the crowd easily enough, the lighting being dark enough to not afford others a second look. He decided to stay back from the stage a bit, and try not to draw attention to himself. He tried to focus on the opening act, had a beer to calm his nerves, but it was useless; he needed to see Adam.

            When the band took the stage in a furry of lights and screaming fans, Blake’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest; there he was, all in white like some dumb heavenly apparition. He was a fan of the band, had been before he’d even met Adam, but tonight he couldn’t focus on anyone but the guy with the microphone, dancing his way around the stage, completely in command of the room.  Blake understood why he was here then; he smiled, and realized that no matter what happened between them, they could always escape to the stage. Nothing would change there.

            The show went on and Blake handled it pretty well; there were only a few moments where his brain short-circuited thanks to Adam’s voice, or dancing, or the times he treated his mic stand like a stripper pole. Blake liked to think he did a good job keeping it together, even snapping a couple of unfocused pictures on his phone. It never ceased to amaze him; Adam belonged on stage. Blake couldn’t help but think, _I’d settle for part time ownership._

At the end of the evening, Blake couldn’t suppress the smile on his face, the pride seeping out of his entire being. It threatened to overflow when Adam grabbed the mic, and said “There’s someone very special to me here this evening. They once told me to think about what I want, not about what I don’t want. I know what you’re all thinking: what an idiot.” The crowd burst out laughing, as did Blake, though he added an eye roll at Adam; he obviously couldn’t resist taking a jab at him when he couldn’t defend himself. “But,” Adam continued. “I have to say thank you to them. I hope they like this one.”

            As the opening riff of ‘This Love’ filled the room, Blake reached his tipping point; the words he’d sung to Adam almost a year ago as a way of saying sorry for being such a dick, to say thank you, to say I actually really like you. It all flooded back to him like a monsoon, and suddenly Blake was 99.9% sure that tonight was going to be the best night of his life.

_I'll fix these broken things_   
_Repair your broken wings_   
_And make sure everything's alright_   
_My pressure on your hips_   
_Sinking my fingertips_   
_Into every inch of you_   
_Cause I know that's what you want me to do_

***

            After the show, Blake moved in a blur; he walked with purpose, possibly guided by assistants who made sure he didn’t walk into a wall, but he didn’t care; right now, he only wanted to see one person.

            Backstage was party central, techs and assistants milling about with producers and whatever-they-called-themselves; Blake prayed he wouldn’t get pulled into some inane conversation. Luckily, he caught the eye of James, who smiled, winked, and gave him a head tilt, indicating to a closed door down the hall. With a wave of thanks, Blake was off like a shot.

            In the days, months, and years to come, Blake wouldn’t remember knocking on the door, wouldn’t remember waiting for what seemed like an eternity for the door to open, wouldn’t even remember walking into the room. He would, however, remember every detail of Adam; the white t-shirt, the jeans, the bare feet, the hair, the face, the eyes that looked him up and down, and the smile that threatened to crack him in half.

            “Hi.”

            “Hi.” Blake bit his lip to keep from adding more. He waited for Adam to say something, to sit, to do anything.

            “So,” Adam began, standing his ground. “I did some thinking, and despite all the things I don’t want to happen, I’m pretty sure there’s one thing I do want.”

            Blake made an attempt to stay composed, but there was nothing doing. “And?” He said expectantly, his body practically vibrating with the anticipation.

            It turns out, that while Blake wouldn’t remember most of what had happened leading up to that night, if there was one thing that would stay embedded in his brain until the day he died, it would be the moment in which Adam pulled him into the hands down single greatest kiss of his entire life.

            Blake’s eyes shut as he breathed in the kiss, his entire body decompressing as Adam’s lips pressed against his own, a hand tangling in his hair, his own hands reaching up to wrap around Adam and pull him closer. There was no struggle for dominance, no sense that anyone needed to control. Right now, they were equals, falling apart and mending at the same time.

            Now they could finally get started.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, apologies for the time this took to write. Second, apologies for the quality of the writing. Third, you're all pretty freakin sweet.  
> Much obliged to Bubbles and Becky again for their help and demands (Bubbles you will get your run and jump kiss okay, just wait a couple chapters!)
> 
> I've actually seen a huge increase in activity in this fandom lately, and it warms my heart. I would like to thank everyone for reading and following and getting involved. I'd also like to remind everyone who might stumble upon this that it is meant in the spirit of fun, and is in no way meant to be disrespectful to any party involved. I write the characters I see in my head, and I hope you'll allow me to keep playing in my creepy little sandbox. Any problems/questions, please feel free to pose them.
> 
> Next up: Doin Dirt. Yep. It's exactly what you're thinking.


	11. Doin Dirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With them both on the same wavelength, Adam and Blake finally let go, moving from the concert to a dark, anonymous club, where the music is loud enough to drown out the doubts, giving way to everything in the way of laughing, dancing grinding, kissing, and all things promising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: I did rely heavily on music for this chapter, so if you'd like a read-along soundtrack, here are the songs I used, and the youtube links.
> 
> Backstage: Black Sheep - Metric feat. Brie Larson http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NhyorF3Jam4  
> The Club: Bust a Move 212 - Pitch Perfect Remix http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gjJ6m14v5fQ  
> The Dance: Seven Nation Army (remix) - The Glitch Mob http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-m7e7tCn7Bk  
> The House 1: Closer - Nine Inch Nails http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGwqJZWow3A  
> The House 2: Somewhere a Clock is Ticking - Snow Patrol http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLg7zXlgNus

_Hold me, we’re dancing in the dark of the night,_   
_you’re shining like a neon light,_   
_I light you up when I get inside._   
_Why won’t you touch me?_   
_Everybody’s watching us now,_   
_we’re putting on a show for the crowd,_   
_so turn it up baby make it loud._

 

            Adam had made up his mind to stay in the room forever; food and drinks covering every surface, loud music emanating from some unseen outside party, a particularly comfortable couch, and Blake Shelton sitting next to him on said comfortable couch, getting very intimate with Adam’s neck.

            Adam couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy.

            Part of him still couldn’t believe this was happening, that he was finally getting what he wanted, _who_ he wanted. The pessimistic half of his brain had once again reared its ugly head for a minute when Blake had shown up in the dressing room and had described all the things that were still unknown, all of the things that could possibly go wrong. Adam had shut it out for good the minute Blake’s lips touched his, felt Blake’s arms wrap around him, steered them both towards the very comfortable couch and felt his knees give way, Blake climbing next to him, intent on conducting a very thorough examination of Adam’s face.

            Yeah, Adam was never leaving this room again.

            “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Blake said between kisses, each word punctuated by a wet smack to Adam’s skin. Adam closed his eyes and grinned, unable to answer because he honestly didn’t know. He was so utterly gone in that moment that when Blake suddenly stopped kissing him, Adam didn’t even mind; he needed to catch his breath and let his brain restart, not to mention recover from beard burn.

            They sat in silence for a moment while Adam turned back into himself. He turned to Blake, suddenly concerned by the look on his face. “Don’t go quiet on me now, Shelton.” Adam tried to keep his voice light, remembering where they’d been before, where he didn’t want to go ever again.

            “Sorry,” Blake said, his head bowed; Adam could just see him chewing on the side of his mouth as he thought, Adam’s own nerves driving him crazy. He moved closer to Blake and grabbed both of his hands in his own before he could stop himself. “Blake, we can’t keep doing this. I can’t push you away anymore, and you can’t have a breakdown when I kiss you. Just talk to me, please. What are you thinking now?”

            Blake stayed silent for another moment, before he raised his head, and Adam could see that he was actually smiling, unable to suppress or get rid of the beautifully stupid look on his face. Relief filled Adam’s body before Blake told him, “I’m just really happy right now.”

            Adam grinned and their smiles met, Blake’s lips pressed against his own, until he broke away again. “You know we’re gonna have to talk about it sometime.” Adam knew that; even after suppressing the asshole half of his brain, he knew they still had so much to figure out with regards to where they were headed next. Right now, however, Adam didn’t care. He nodded and said, “I know. But just do me one favor?” Blake’s eyes narrowed before Adam grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back in. “No talking tonight.”

            Blake growled before kissing Adam again, this time more direct, more passionate, lips parting lips, tongue invading and exploring what hadn’t been already charted. Adam felt himself slip back on the couch until Blake was completely on top of him, a reversal to what had happened on Adam’s couch so many months ago; Adam felt vindicated in knowing Blake was all in this time, so much so that he was willing to let him be on top. _For now,_ he thought, moaning as Blake sucked on his pulse point.

            “Hey Adam…oh my god, sorry!”

            Adam wanted to scream and grab the nearest heavy object to throw at James for butting his head in right at that second. As the nearest available thing was actually Blake, he thought better of it and said, “James, you know I love you brother, but get the fuck out.”

            James laughed, “I know I know, I should have known you crazy kids would make up and make out.”

            “Blake, get off me I have to go kill James.”

            “I’m going, I’m gone!” James said, hands held up in surrender. “The gear’s all packed up and everyone’s heading out now. Most of us are heading to that club Max booked out for the night. You know how good his parties are. You guys should come if you’re not too distracted,” he smirked.

            Adam looks at Blake, “Do you wanna go? I mean we don’t have to, but it’s a label thing…”

            “Are you kidding?” Blake laughed and scrambled to his feet, pulling Adam with him. “You in a dark room with techno music? I’ve paid to see less.”

            “I’ll make sure I find a nice dark corner table,” Adam whispers as they follow James out.

***

            The club was barely more than a dive spiced up with leather banquettes in dark pockets between neon lights. It was new, opened a few months ago; it hadn’t built much buzz for itself, but it was well on its way to being a party staple in West Hollywood. It was VIP access only, though the room was so dark Adam could barely see James in front of him, taking care to stay anchored to Blake whilst pulling him forward through the sea of people who didn’t even give them a second look. It was terrifying, and exhilarating, and Adam was ecstatic not to be “on” for anyone. It was his favorite kind of club, where everyone agreed to revel in anonymity. The music was blasting, heavy techno and remix bits with bass that pounded in his chest; Adam turned to shoot a smile at Blake whilst looking around for a dark corner they could lose themselves in later.

            First, however, Adam had to dance with the people who brought him, figuratively speaking; he hugged Max and shook hands with the execs, the music too loud to do much else. The next thing they knew, a tray of shots was passed around and they all tossed them back; on the return from said shots, Adam’s head lowered to meet Blake’s eyes, fixed and dark with a look that went straight to Adam’s dick. He suddenly couldn’t remember the reason for coming to the club in the first place.

            Adam felt a tap on the shoulder; James was smirking at him again. “Get a room,” he yelled over the music. Adam laughed, and James leaned in closer so Blake couldn’t read his lips. “Just so you know,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy in a long time.”

            Adam shook his head, unable to hide his smile. James grinned at him and tipped his head towards Blake and the dance floor. “Go have fun you two. You deserve it.”

            A telltale bass line came over the speakers, a rock song remixed to be heavier, deeper, to sit at the bottom of your stomach as it played, and Adam couldn’t resist; with a wave to the guys (who had become preoccupied with their own drinks and dates), Adam pulled Blake towards the dance floor. Behind him, Blake’s hands wandered over Adam’s body, lips coming close to Adam’s ear to say, “You know I can’t really dance.”

            Adam laughed and turned to face Blake, both of them sandwiched between the sweaty, writhing bodies, not caring who they were or why they were there. Adam pulled Blake close, close enough for Blake to feel how hard Adam was, and answered back, “I don’t really care.”

            It was immediately obvious why Adam didn’t care; dancing here was more like grinding, rubbing up against one another, feeling every curve, every muscle. Blake’s moves were more awkward, less sure of himself, but Adam led, sliding down his body with ease and back up to press his forehead against the other man’s cheek. He gripped Blake’s hips, pulling them flush against him until Adam realized he wasn’t the only one who was hard.  Gasping, Adam felt Blake’s arms slip around his waist, his own hand snaking up to tangle in Blake’s curls, damp with sweat. Their lips didn’t touch once; they both simply moved together, mouths open in awe.

            They rode the music like a wave, Blake’s hips eventually becoming looser, Adam all but wrapping his legs around him; the music created a slow burn inside both of them, a minor but welcome delay towards the inevitable. For Adam, it was a surreal moment; being surrounded by people and together like this, Blake’s hands on his ass, his own arms wrapped around Blake’s shoulders holding on for dear life.  He could see eyes starting to turn towards them, but in the moment, he just didn’t care. _Let them look_ ; the beat was slow, their movements raw and dirty, and any remaining cares of being judged slipped away. They were both in their own world, the music taking them away, as it did in all aspects of their life.

            The beat eventually shifts, moving into something faster, something Adam eventually recognizes as the band, a remix of an early hit, which makes them both laugh. The song might have initially been about heartbreak and pressure, but as he heard his own sexually implicit lyrics sung back to him, Adam realized just how appropriate the song was right now, and how much he wanted to get out of there. He looked at Blake, and with a nod, Blake pulled him towards the door of the club, out into the darkness of the alleyway and into a waiting car (Adam really had to hand it to Max, the guy delivers) before a single camera can catch them.

***

            Adam later had brief memories of the ride home, giving a hurried address to the driver before Blake claimed his lips in a brutal kiss; Adam gave back as good as he got, his brain giving way to what his body had denied and wanted for so long. He smiled against Blake’s lips as he felt hands groping his entire body, everything moving so quickly that neither of them could stop to process it. Adam knew, deep down, that neither of them wanted to stop and process it; they had taken long enough to get here.

            A short drive later, thanks to their tactful, paid-only-to-drive driver, they were both at Adam’s house, stumbling up steps, tripping through doors, barely able to hold one another up the desire to find a flat surface being so strong. Clothes were shed one by one, layers being stripped away as they clawed at each other, desperate to get to the core. Adam’s shirt didn’t make it past the front door; he felt Blake push it up as he unlocked the door, saw it tossed it aside before he was pushed into the wall, Blake’s tongue moving down Adam’s body to swipe wetly at tattooed skin.

            Blake ripped his own shirt off as he moved back to kiss Adam again; the buttons ripped apart from the fabric and scattered on the ground. As they moved upstairs, they paused on the stairs multiple times; an undershirt thrown there, belts tossed over the banister, jeans discarded on the hallway floor. They managed to make their way to the bedroom relatively unscathed, and as they entered the room, the only light being what makes it’s way from the city into the window, they broke apart for the first time that night, staring at the other. For the first time, Adam thought, it felt real; being alone in that room with Blake brought everything into painful focus, and despite all of their problems leading up to this moment, all of the issues they had yet to deal with, there would be no turning back,

            In the dim light, Blake reached out and traced a cool hand over Adam’s bare arm, tracing the various patterns on his skin. Adam shivered under the touch, closing the space between them. He closed his eyes, reveling in the freedom to actually be there, touching Blake, his hands tentatively running up and down Blake’s back. They stayed there together for what seemed like forever, staring and touching. When Adam couldn’t take it any longer, he opened his eyes, and looked into Blake’s, bluer than he had ever seen them, slightly apprehensive, glassy, and oh so happy. It was the eyes that ultimately did him in, Adam knew, as he closed the remaining space and crashed his lips into Blake’s. That was it; the penny dropped, the tendon snapped, they were gone.

            All hesitation was gone as Adam pulled Blake closer to him, his tongue begging entrance, needing to taste him, get that much closer to him. Adam felt his knees give way, and he fell back onto the bed, Blake falling with him, not prepared to break their kiss just yet as they battled for dominance in a clash of teeth and tongue. Blake ultimately lost, gasping as his boxer-clad erection brushed against Adam’s, both of them painfully hard but desperate to make the night last. Adam grinned and bucked his hips up, the resulting friction being a godsend and a burden and not nearly close to being enough. Their breathing got heavier, filling the room, becoming Adam’s most favorite sound.

            Ever so slowly, Blake moved down Adam’s body, pausing again to trace his tattoos, this time with his tongue. He circled one nipple before moving to the other, eliciting a frustrated groan from Adam as he didn’t stop to elaborate, just continued on his exploration of Adam’s torso. By the time he reached Adam’s hips, Blake’s body was off the bed; his knees hit the ground and his hands gripped Adam, pulling him closer. Adam looked down at Blake who seemed hesitant again at the task before him. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, you know.” Adam told him, his voice barely a whisper.

            “I know,” Blake answered. His eyes met Adam’s and Adam swore his cock leapt at the sight. “I just know there’s no going back now.” He smiled, his fingers slowly curling around the waistband of Adam’s underwear. He swallowed loudly.

            It took everything Adam had left in him to not reach down and touch himself; Blake was taking his time, getting used to the whole idea, and Adam didn’t want to scare him. He had done this before, but this was different. This wasn’t a quick fuck in the backroom of a bar; this was _Blake_. They would make this work. He reached his hand out to Blake, giving him something to touch, to reassure him, to keep him anchored. Blake’s fingers intertwined with Adam’s, as his other hand circled around Adam’s dick, slowly but surely taking steady strokes. Adam managed to keep his eyes trained on Blake’s, maintaining their connection so that he didn’t feel lost. They had nothing to fear, really; for them, it was meant to be.

            It wasn’t long before Blake was leaning down, his mouth ghosting over Adam’s inner thighs, pressing feather light kisses while his hand continued to stroke him. As his confidence grew, Blake was growing more vocal; growls escaped his throat, his vocabulary seemingly becoming limited to the words, “God”, “Adam”, and “Fuck.” Adam finally let his head fall back, eyes rolling to the back of his head, swimming in the sensation of Blake’s hand on his cock and Blake’s voice in his ears; the need for Blake to fuck him was nearing a tipping point. He reached down and stilled Blake’s hand with his own; Blake’s confused face was soon replaced with an understanding, if nervous, one as Adam reached over to his bedside table and threw the necessary items on the bed.

            “Are you sure?”

            Adam huffed, trying to catch his breath. “Blake, I swear if you don’t fuck me soon I’m going to kick your ass out and finish this myself.”

            Blake gave a half laugh that was practically a whimper before coming down over Adam to kiss him again, this one sweet and tender, their eyes shut so tight that Adam could feel tears building up behind his eyelids on emotional overload. He flicked the cap off the bottle of lube, but before he could hand it to Blake, Blake was gone, out of reach, standing over him.

            “I want to watch you do this.”

            Adam rolled his eyes and said, “Are you fucking serious, you’re doing this to me now?”

            Blake smiled darkly and Adam shivered. His voice was still just as tender, if further away than Adam wanted. “I’ve just never done it, that’s all. I need you to help me through this one.”

            Adam understood, but threw a condom at Blake for good measure. “You just get yourself ready then, I’m not doing all the work.”

            His fingers covered in lube, Adam breathed deeply as he began to prep himself. His yoga training made it easier, as he could bend and stretch and reach the angle he needed. He wasn’t as hesitant as Blake might have been, but he could feel Blake’s eyes trained on him as he pushed one finger inside, his knee jerking in reflex as he went deeper. After several moments he pulled out and pushed two fingers inside, really stretching himself, one finger brushing against his prostate for only a second. Adam kept breathing, and kept going.

            He heard Blake moan, and his eyes opened to see him standing there, watching him as though watching a supernova, eyes hooded with lust as he lazily stroked himself. Adam smirked and began to fuck himself on fingers a little faster, knowing that Blake had gotten the idea. Replacing his two fingers with three, his back arched slightly off the bed, giving him a second’s glimpse of Blake’s cock, leaking precome onto his hand. The next thing he knew, Blake was kneeling down again, and he felt a hand grip his own as it pushed into his ass; Blake began to guide his hand’s movements, and Adam let go, felt himself be fucked on his own fingers. His breath grew ragged, his brain melting as it searched for words that seemed just out of reach. He really, really needed Blake to fuck him now.

            Luckily, Blake seemed to come to that conclusion on his own; Adam’s hand was given back to him, while Blake kneeled on the bed, Adam’s legs automatically wrapping around his. They locked eyes again, unable to look away from one another as Blake slowly pushed inside Adam and they finally, finally become one. Blake stilled once he was inside, both of them breathing heavily and adjusting to the sense of newness that had befallen them. As realization dawned, they were both smiling, and Blake moved.

            Sex with Blake was like nothing Adam had ever experienced; with a woman, he mostly liked to be dominated, liked to see them in control. With men, he tended to be the driving force, the instigator of every movement. With Blake, the rulebook had been thrown out; they both moved together, they dominated together, and they fell together. They were equals.

            Blake’s hips moved lazily at first, Adam’s moving at the same pace before spreading his legs further, prompting Blake to throw them over his shoulder and find a deeper angle that knocked the wind out of Adam. They were still moving slowly, but every sharp thrust was like a burst of fireworks in the back of Adam’s brain. He could see Blake start to lose it, biting his lip to stop the litany of curse words shooting through his head. He finally broke, his hands slipping from Adam’s leg to brace himself on the bed. “Jesus Christ, Adam.”

            Adam could only capture his mouth in another kiss, his hips encouraging Blake’s to keep moving. Adam raised his legs further, almost folding himself in half, allowing Blake to thrust more easily. They’d had enough now, needed release, and Adam spurred Blake on as he pushed in deeper, faster, slamming against Adam’s prostate each time. Straightening his arms, Blake paused before pistoning into Adam, the satisfying slap of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. Adam groaned loudly as he teetered close to the edge, while Blake muttered, “Fuck” over and over under his breath. Adam tried to reach between them and wrap a hand around his leaking cock, knowing he would be gone like that, but Blake doesn’t let up. It was almost brutal, but in the best possible way; Blake’s hips snapped forward and drove them both nearer to the brink, near enough that Blake surged forward to kiss Adam again, the rhythm breaking slightly as they breathe each other in, tasting, feeling. Adam finally managed to get a hand between them, as Blake realized how close they both wore. He laid his forehead against Adam’s, their eyes impossibly locked, and whispers, “Together, right?”           

            Adam nodded, and wrapped a hand around himself, stroking quickly. Blake gave a hard thrust; they moaned.

            Blake gave a second thrust; Adam screamed.

            Blake slammed forward a third time, hard; in a flash of light, they came, watching each other fall apart before their eyes, impossibly blissed out and perfectly happy.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it to Explicit rating, we did it kids  
> Thank you all for waiting for this, I really sincerely appreciate it. I did have a lot of trouble with this chapter, but I hope it's to everyone's liking. It's still very surreal, writing smut for this pairing. I'm just gonna stick a big yellow "You Tried" star on this one.
> 
> Many thanks to Becky and Bubbles, as always.  
> I know RPF is experiencing a bit of backlash lately, but please sincerely believe that I mean no harm or disrespect to any party involved. I write the characters I see in my head for my own amusement and interest, nothing more.
> 
> Playlist is the beginning notes, I encourage you to check those songs out!


	12. Beautiful Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both wish everything was simpler, that they could do this without fear or without hurting anyone. But then it wouldn't be their lives. The real question is: is it all worth it? Immediately follows the events of Doin Dirt, Blake and Adam hope there aren't any regrets.

_Now I’m kissing your tears goodnight,_   
_and I can’t take it;_   
_you’re even perfect when you cry_

            The room was still, the only sense that time was passing coming with each inhale and exhale of breath. As Adam drifted on the edge of sleep, his mind was oddly calm; for the first time in months, he seemed to finally be at peace with who he was, and what he wanted, all thanks to the man lying next to him. He glanced to his left to Blake, flat on his back, a dreamy expression on his face, blinking slowly as he processed what had just happened. Adam couldn’t help but smile, which caught Blake’s attention. They could only stare at each other for a few moments, sated and relieved; there was finally the knowledge that beyond friendship, beyond lust, there was love behind it all, and they could feel it.

            And it was overwhelming.

            “I love you.” Adam whispered it, almost hopeful that Blake couldn’t hear him. But Blake did hear, and immediately Adam could see the tears pool in his eyes, causing him to panic. “Oh my god, what’s wrong, what did I do?”

            Blake just shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose to make himself stop as tears began to roll slowly down his face; even so, the smile on his face was evident. “I’m just,” his words caught in his throat, and then he continued, “I’m so sorry.” Adam was stunned. “Why are you sorry?”

            Blake gave a sad chuckle. “Because I love you too. And I wish everything was different.”

            Adam looked at him quizzically.  “What do you mean?”

             “I just don’t know how I’m going to give up what I’m going to give up,” Blake said. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re worth it,” he said, earning him a grin and a soft punch from Adam. “But I wish I didn’t have to hurt anyone to be with you.”

            In that moment, Adam could not have felt like a bigger piece of shit. Here he’d come along and fucked with everything Blake had going on. He hadn’t asked for love; it had been, like Blake himself, a terrible, wonderful, politically incorrect surprise. “I’m sorry too,” Adam blurted out.

            Now it was Blake’s turn to be surprised. “What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”

            “For just complicating everything. We were doing fine as just friends. I could have let the kiss go, could have told you to go home, I just – “

            Blake cut off Adam’s rambling with a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. He smiled and said, “Adam, trust me. This whole thing was inevitable from the minute I saw you.”

            But Adam wouldn’t take that for an answer. “Look, Blake, I know I was pretty persistent about this, and I want to be with you so much it hurts, but....” Adam hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to put this option on the table. For Blake’s happiness, and his own peace of mind, he knew he had to. “But if you want to call this a one time thing and let everything be, I won’t blame you.”

            “Do you really want that? Blake asked, quietly. Adam felt a surge of affection for the man who suddenly seemed so down at the prospect of going back to his old life. As for whether Adam wanted to lose Blake, there was really only one answer he could go:

            “Fuck no!”

            Blake roared at that and Adam did to, and fuck it felt good to laugh again. They were lost for a minute, wrapped up in Adam’s sheets and their combined laughter and their love. It was perfect.

            But Adam still had one question. Turning back to face Blake, he asked “So no matter what. No regrets?”

             Blake stopped, thought, and said “Maybe one.” Adam looked at him, puzzled. Blake just seemed to stare at Adam for a few moments, he looked into the depths of him, before he finally said in a small voice,” I wish I’d met you five years ago.  Hell, ten years ago.” He laughed a bit, before it sputtered into a sob. “I wish I’d known you my whole life.”

             And Adam knew; just because they had finally gotten their own shit together, there were still so many obstacles to overcome. It was almost too late in their lives to take it on, but Adam was damn sure he was prepared to do it, and hold Blake’s hand along the way. Everything was about to change for them and more than a few people were going to be hurt, angry, or heartbroken over the truth. And while it would have been easier for them both to walk away after that night, they both knew it was no longer an option.

            Adam moved closer to Blake, his hands cupping each side of his face. He leaned in to kiss each of Blake’s eyelids, puffy from the tears. He kissed his way down the tearstains, finally finding Blake’s lips.  If he could pour all of his love into a single kiss, it would have been that kiss. They couldn’t be sure what would happen in the days and weeks to come, but for now, Adam wanted to just _be._ Blake’s arms instinctively wrapped around him and they finally gave in to sleep, holding on to one another in the few hours they had left together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD THIS IS SO SHORT AND I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, BLAME LIFE  
> Thanks to everyone for waiting and dealing with me, I'm just so sorry. I am hoping to clue this whole thing up in the next week or two before I go on vacation and then come home and open a new show!
> 
> Thanks as always to Becky and Bubbles for the help.  
> Enjoy!


	13. Wipe Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the first night; Blake is up, dressed, and ready to go, but this isn't some one night thing. He's determined to make this work between the two of them, even if it means cooling off for a while. No matter what happens after this, they both agree, if they ever need a shoulder to cry on, the other will be there. They'll get through this together.

_Hey you, come over and let me embrace you._   
_I know that I’m causing you pain too,_   
_but remember if you need to cry,_   
_I’m here to wipe your eyes._

 

            Blake stood, half conscious as the water ran over his body, the steady stream soothing his sore muscles. He didn’t remember falling asleep, had stayed awake long after Adam had drifted off, until the darkness lifted into the blue and white of early morning. He had spent the whole night with his arms wrapped around Adam, his mind going a million miles an hour, running over everything from their night to their first kiss to his marriage to his family and back to Adam again. The line between heartbreak and happiness in all of his thoughts was so thin he couldn’t even see it anymore.

            So he had dragged himself out of bed and into Adam’s shower; he didn’t want to risk waking Adam up, but the guy was dead to the world. Part of Blake wanted to stay in bed and see how long it would take for Adam to wake up once his mouth was on his…Blake shook his head and tried to wipe the shampoo out of his eyes. _Focus idiot._

            All that thinking, and it led back to the same place.

            That had to count for something.

            He shut the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel as he went through the motions of getting dressed. Adam was probably awake by now, stretched out in that bed, waiting for Blake to re-join him. Except Blake knew he wasn’t getting back in that bed, and he would rather flush himself down the toilet than leave Adam right now.

            _It’s for the best,_ he told himself.

            Sure enough, Adam was awake, stretching like a tabby cat in the sunshine that came streaming in the windows, before flopping back down onto the pillows. He grinned once he saw Blake, and it sent a pang straight through Blake’s stomach; perhaps, for the first time, he truly appreciated how beautiful Adam was.

            Adam seemed to tune into Blake’s mood, which led him to get up and reach for armor, meaning clothes. He slipped his jeans back over his body - _commando_ , Blake thought, _holy shit_ – and asked, “What is it?”

            “I’m going back to Oklahoma today.”

            Adam’s shoulders tensed, and Blake got out his explanation before the yelling could start. “After last night, I just need to go back and – “

            “And forget this ever happened right?” Adam crossed his arms over his bare chest in his defensive stance, and Blake almost leapt out of his skin in an attempt to go to him and calm him down.

            “Adam, that’s not –”

            “No, really it’s fine,” Adam waved him off, his voice tight. “Go home, we won’t talk about it, and hey, at least we got it out of our systems right?”

            “Will you shut up for a second and listen to me you jackass?” Blake took a deep breath and kept going before Adam could cut him off again. “I’m going home to talk to Miranda so we can start…ending things.”

            That definitely shut Adam up.

            “So you – “  
            Blake sighed. “Yes, you dumbass I want to be with you. She gets it. She might throw a frying pan at my head but she’ll understand. We just need to handle this whole thing a little carefully. We’ve all got careers here and I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

            Adam was never one to sit or stand still; he crossed the room, back and forth like a lion in its cage while Blake watched, with no hope or wish to tame him. He knew Adam would come around, even if he wouldn’t be happy about it.

            “Adam,” he said softly. “You gotta know I don’t want to leave. I just have to do this for us. Just let me go now and don’t try to punch me, okay?”

            Adam looked at him and Blake could see the tears in his eyes, causing his own vision to blur. They eventually found themselves in the middle of the room, their bodies pressed tightly together, Blake’s head nestled in Adam’s neck while Adam buried his own face in Blake’s shirt. The buttons were digging into Adam’s bare skin, but Blake couldn’t bear to let go. He needed this to keep him going for a while, one last hug before everything started to change.

            “Your shirt’s all wet,” Adam sniffed.

            “Yeah well whose fault is that,” Blake placed a kiss to Adam’s neck and rubbed his back, memorizing every inch of Adam he could. “You can use me as a handkerchief anytime you want, you know that.”

            He felt a smile on his shoulder as Adam took Blake’s shirt and wiped his face in it one last time before stepping back, leaving a stain that Blake couldn’t help but be grateful for. It was something to carry with him, and remind him that this was real.

            "Same here," Adam grinned, wiping his neck. "I don't think I need a shower now thanks to your blubbering."

            "Anytime," Blake grinned back, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’ll be back in a week, I hope. The whole team is coming in to figure out a plan.”

            “Good luck with that,” Adam joked, and Blake felt the same way. He was headed into hell and they both knew it. “I’ll call the guys, and Michael. They’ll probably have some good advice.”

            “What about your parents, Mark, Carson?” The list of people they had to start bringing into their new life grew longer and longer in Blake’s head.

            “One step at a time,” Adam said, pressing a hand to Blake’s chest, as though he’d sensed the imminent panic attack. “You deal with what you have to do, then we’ll start telling everyone else. Together.”

            He held a hand up to Adam’s face, his thumb brushing carefully along that skin. Blake loved Adam’s skin. The smooth, soft canvas broken by ink or stubble made him realize why some people were so crazy about art. As he wiped a remaining tear from Adam’s cheek, Blake leaned in a pressed his lips to Adam’s, just as good, just as perfect as their first, and he’d be damned if it would be the last.

            “We’ll figure it out, Adam,” Blake reassured him. “It’ll all work out.”

            Blake wasn’t sure why, but he believed it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN SEE THE PROMISE LAND.  
> Once again, thanks to everyone for their patience as I try to get these out with some semblance of good grammar, plot structure, and dialogue that doesn't make me want to vomit.  
> Special thanks to Becky and Bubbles as always for their all-caps comments, their tears bring me such joy.
> 
> There might be another delay for the next two chapters and epilogue. I'm in rehearsals and opening a play in two weeks, and going on vacation next week, but I'll try and keep it under a month before I update. In the meantime, if you haven't already, go read W5Lex's Life After You fic, which I'm currently beta-ing. It's fucking glorious. And of course, anything that the lovely Becky (allouette) has written. Thanks everyone!


	14. Wasted Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam gets the crucial phone call, the one he’s been waiting months for; Blake is back. This is their time. It's their first real date, and their first dose of reality.

_And I'll see you when I get back_   
_Maybe we can get ourselves back on the right track_   
_You touch me there because you know how much I like that_   
_I think that we both need to relax, you know you want me_

One month later

 **_Blake Shelton announces ‘amicable’ split from wife Miranda Lambert, asks for privacy and respect at this time._ ** _The country music star has shocked the world with the announcement, though states he remains committed to his former partner. “I love Miranda and I wish her all the best in the future,” Shelton announced in a statement to the press on Monday. He continued as saying, “Our ambitions and interests have since changed, and we wish to cause the least amount of pain to our dear friends and family.” Ms. Lambert, also a successful country music artist, stated that while she wished to make the marriage work, she harbors no ill feelings. “We now recognize that we are better as friends, and I hope I can still be a part of his life.”_

_While details are still being released, Shelton is said to have moved out of the couple’s shared Oklahoma ranch and returned to Los Angeles to resume filming for NBC’s ‘The Voice’, of which he is a judge alongside Christina Aguilera, Cee Lo Green, and Adam Levine._

***

            Adam was going crazy.

            Two months of waiting for the phone to ring, of not seeing the name he wanted on his caller id, of waiting to hear that special, stupid accent was taking its toll and Adam was close to getting in his car and driving to Tishomingo himself. He sighed and flopped down on his balcony cushions (because where else could he go but to his outdoor home crisis centre), hoping the fresh air would be enough of a distraction. The sun was going down over Los Angeles, the air was cool, everything in his city was gorgeous and Adam resented the hell out of it. He pulled out his phone and started reading his texts and emails from Blake. Just because they had decided not to talk until everything with Ran was settled, didn’t mean they couldn’t type. Adam’s inbox had never been filthier; he smiled.

            He scrolled through his messages, going further back to the beginning of their text history, the beginning of his friendship with Blake after their peace offering first beer together. Adam’s couldn’t believe it had been a year since they had met; so much had changed in such a short span of time, it was a sure sign for him that he knew that he and Blake were meant to be. Sometimes, he thought, you just _know_.

            As he started to drift off, Adam felt his phone buzz in his hand; as he glanced at the incoming call, he did a double take and almost threw the phone over the balcony in his attempt to get it up to his ear. “Blake.”

            “Miss me?” Adam could hear the grin through the phone.

            “Save it asshole, please tell me you’re back in L.A.” Adam’s heart soared as he heard Blake’s infectious laugh and he fell into giggles himself.

            “I just got back,” Blake replied. “It’s all over.”

            “I know,” Adam said. “I read your statements, you guys did a good job.” He remembered reading the press release that his assistant had sent him, either as a heads up or a precaution, he still wasn’t sure. He knew some of the fans were confused and shocked by it all, but for the most part there didn’t seem to be too much focus on it by the press. There were more infamous, easier targets to exploit than a hardworking couple that just hadn’t worked out.

            “Anyway,” Blake pushed Adam’s thoughts away as he focused on his voice. “I’m back now. And it’s just me. We can do this if you still want to.”

            For Adam, there was no question at all in his mind as he all but screamed into the phone, “Get your country ass over here right now!”

            “Way ahead of you dummy!” The voice echoed in Adam’s ears, because he could hear it through the phone and from somewhere below him. He scrambled to his feet, looked over the balcony into the backyard, and there he was; Blake Shelton, newly single, gigantic goofball, love of his life.

            Love.

            If Adam hadn’t felt it before, he could feel it then.

            He wasn’t too keen on the Romeo and Juliet/Say Anything vibe they had going on though, so he turned and ran through his house, through the kitchen, and outside. Blake stood there on the grass, and he was gorgeous; his hair curling at the ends, stubble, and dressed in dark jeans, button up shirt, and a vest. The saying “sight for sore eyes” was more than applicable to Adam, who grinned and kept running into Blake’s arms; he jumped up and wrapped his long legs around Blake, not caring if he tipped them both over as he smashed his lips into Blake’s. It was no ordinary kiss; it was their reunion.

            Mercifully, Blake stayed on his feet and gripped Adam’s waist with one hand, the other pulling on his t-shirt, holding on for dear life.

            “You really need to stop breaking into my house,” Adam mumbled against Blake’s neck.

            “It’s not breaking in if you know the code, dumbass,” Blake countered. “Now let go, I can’t hold you!”

            “So much for romance then,” Adam laughed.

            “Oh shut up,” Blake said. “Go get changed. We’re going out.”

            Adam smirked as his legs touched back down on solid ground. “Like a date?”

            “You’re damn right a date, you better show me a good time. I’m a classy guy, not some floozy!” Blake mocked and Adam laughed and everything fell back into place.

            Adam dashed upstairs to get dressed; he wasn’t a huge fan of first dates and the pressure they usually brought on. Part of him knew that this was Blake, that they had been out before, had slept together, loved each other even, and that the pressure shouldn’t be there. But Adam knew that now the stakes were even higher. It was exhilarating in a way; now they could start to build something real, something that was just for them. They could start fresh. Before the worry set in about how people would react, Adam wanted to focus on him and Blake. Everything else came second.

            They had a lot of wasted time to make up for.

***

            “It’s a lot better than the last time we ate out together,” Blake joked, finishing off his food. Adam cringed thinking back to the morning after their first kiss – though he didn’t like to think of it as that. More like the night they broke his lamp and started acting like jackasses for two months.

            “You got that right. I never did get my pop tart tower,” Adam smirked.

            “Did I at least pay?” Blake asked, a glint in his eyes as he smiled.

            “I can’t remember,” Adam confessed. “I only remember you yelling at me on the sidewalk and then leaving me high and dry on the boulevard in all my hungover, heartbroken glory.” They both laughed; it was easy to look back on how stupid they had both been, Adam thought. It didn’t matter now that they were together.

            And they were together; it was hard to believe that they were both there, tucked away in the corner of the small restaurant, stealing bites from one another’s plate, laughing and talking like they always did. To the casual onlooker, they were friends grabbing a bite to eat. Someone with a more observant eye and a weaker grasp on popular culture might see two men on a date. The best part was, Adam thought, is that they were both right. And they’d never really know the truth. Not yet.

            They paid the bill and left the building, and suddenly reality came crashing down on them. Flashes went off and questions berated them from all sides as paparazzi swarmed the entrance. Adam cursed under his breath, thinking they should have gone to The Ivy after all; at least their owners didn’t tip the press off about who was eating in their dining room. If it hadn’t been for Blake pressing forward through the crowd, Adam probably would have walked back into the restaurant and punched the owner in the face.

            He followed Blake down the street towards the car, attempting a smile and dodging their questions. He knew Blake was getting the worst of it:

            “ _Blake, why’d you split from Miranda?”_

_“Are you seeing someone already?”_

_“Is Adam showing you a good time?”_

They kept their mouths shut until they reached the car, careful not to drive over any cameramen (much as they wanted to) as they sped off. Adam drove, taking the quickest route he knew back to his house. He glanced over at Blake, his long legs folded up against the dashboard. He stared out the window, and didn’t say anything. Adam suddenly knew what he needed.

            Thirty minutes later, they found themselves atop the San Fernando Valley with one of the best views of L.A. Adam knew. He pulled Blake from the car and stood together, the lights of the city flashing, dictating the movements of the people below.

            “Why’d you bring me here?” Blake asked.

            “I wanted to put this in perspective for you.” Adam gestured to the expanse of lights below him. “We are two guys out of a million, ten million, seven billion. The only difference is we go onstage or on tv a couple nights a week and perform for people. And we happened to fall in love.”

            Blake’s eyes flashed at the word, and as the truth set in, they softened, his face breaking out into the widest smile Adam had seen on him yet. “I love you Adam.”

            Adam smiled in mock annoyance. Yes, Blake, I love you too, now let me make my point.” Adam looked at him, demanding his attention. “The press is going to write about this whatever way they want. We’re going to piss people off. We might make people happy. But the important thing is that we make each other happy. So who gives a fuck about anyone else?”

            Blake laughed and pulled Adam into a sudden, soft kiss. Adam shivered as Blake’s hand curled around the nape of his neck. As he pulled away, he said “I love it when you do that.” They smiled, and stared back down at the city below.

            “Gotta hand it to ya Adam,” Blake said. “You know how to show a guy a good view.”

            “Well,” Adam said. “Don’t forget, this is where I grew up.”

            Blake let out a sigh, taking it all in. “Yeah. I didn’t think I’d like L.A. when I first came here. I couldn’t wait to get back home.”

            “What about now?”

            Blake looked at him, and with barely a moment’s pause, reached out for Adam’s hand, interlocked their fingers. “This feels like home.”

            For a minute they did nothing but smile at each other, content in the company of the other. With a glance back to the city, Blake blurted out, “I mean don’t get me wrong, give me my small towns and farmland any day, but if this is where you are, this is home.”

            “You’re not getting a donkey Blake,” Adam rolled his eyes.

            “Of course not, I have you, jackass.”

            Their laughter echoed out over the valley, and Adam knew that they’d be all right. They had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My little idiots made it you guys. Only two chapters to go, and yes, the hard times are behind us at last.  
> Quick note, obviously the split is fabricated for the purposes of this story, I would be heartbroken if Blake and Miranda split in real life. Thankfully this is not real life, and I would appreciate it if everyone read this for what it is: complete and utter fiction and lies.
> 
> Thanks as always to Becky and Bubbles (the jump kiss was at her request, place the blame thusly), and to everyone who has been reading this, commenting, giving feedback, etc. You guys are awesome!
> 
> FYI, I will be following the iTunes Deluxe tracklist, so that should give you a clue as to what songs are to come!


	15. Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first night continued, and it's really real. This is how it feels to love each other now that all the strings are lying on the ground, and they’re free to live in the moment, breathing each other in.

_You don’t have to be beautiful to turn me on._   
_I just need your body baby, from dusk till dawn._   
_You don’t need experience to turn me on._   
_Just leave it all up to me, I’m gonna show you what it’s all about._

`            The ride back to Adam’s was relaxed, as they drove through the streets of LA with the car windows down, music blasting from the stereo. With Adam next to him, their hands still locked together as the cool air rushed in to greet them, Blake felt utterly intoxicated. _Happy_ , he thought, his face aching as he smiled. “I’m so happy.”

            “Me too,” Adam said, and for once Blake didn’t care that he’d let his mouth speak before his mind, because it was the truth. Adam smiled, and Blake couldn’t help but raise their hands to his mouth so he could kiss Adam’s.

            “Stop it!” Adam laughed, pulling his hand away to change the music instead. The sounds of Prince’s “Kiss” poured into the car and Blake grinned as Adam sang along, his high voice a perfect match for the song’s tone. As he sang, Adam kept his eyes on the road, and Blake kept his eyes on Adam; even driving, he put his whole body into the song, his shoulders swaying and bopping in time with the beat. His smile sent a shiver down Blake’s spine, the lyrics bringing a promise of what the night had in store.

            He told Adam to drive faster.

            When they pulled into Adam’s driveway, Blake sighed in relief; he loved being out with Adam, but this, back in their own sanctuary, just the two of them was what he wanted and needed right now. Adam continued to sing in the now-silent car, and Blake could only smile at him.

            “I just want your extra time and your…” Adam made the kissing noises, and that was Blake’s cue to lean over and kiss him hard and full on the mouth. The angle was awkward and not at all enough, and Adam had to push Blake away so he could get out of the car and around to his side; Blake felt dazed as Adam pulled him out of the car and pressed him against the cool metal, his tongue licking a stripe up his neck, kissing the pressure points, causing Blake to melt in his arms, barley able to hold himself up. He managed to find Adam’s mouth again, pleading for entrance though it would always be open to him. Adam tasted like cinnamon and chocolate and booze, like Blake’s all time favorite dessert he could not get enough of. He explored him slowly, felt Adam’s hands snake up to twist in his hair before he pulled away again. He breathed heavily, and smiling, Adam whispered, “Inside. Now.”

            They re-traced their steps from the car back to the house, to the bedroom, back to the beginning of their relationship when everything was new and terrifying, floating with their newfound freedom. Clothing dropped as they made their way through the house, a belt thrown here, buttons popping there.  Halfway up the stairs, Blake slammed Adam into the wall, burying his head in the crook of Adam’s neck as Adam threw his legs around him. He could feel him, hard against his hip, and Blake carried them both the rest of the way, desperate for Adam’s bed. Their bed, now, Blake thought with a smile.

            Adam’s mouth was everywhere; Blake sighed and gave in to the sensation of Adam’s lips on his skin marking him, claiming him for his own. He moved down Blake’s body, stubble burning as he went. Blake focused on his own breathing. In…out…in…there was a hitch in the rhythm as Adam’s lips closed around his dick for the first time, and Blake saw stars.

            “Goddammit Adam,” Blake shuddered, his hands tightening in the bedclothes, which he moved to Adam’s head once he’d felt Adam honest-to-god _smirk_ around his cock. Adam liked to tease, his tongue flicking over the head of Blake’s cock before moving ever so slowly down the shaft, and back again. Blake had half a mind to push Adam’s head down, hold him there, but the other half of his mind was focused on breathing and trying not to come too soon. It wasn’t until Adam’s fingers dug into Blake’s hips and began to move faster that Blake felt his hands tighten in Adam’s hair. Adam went deeper, taking Blake’s entire dick in his mouth, his nose brushing against Blake’s stomach as he took it all, and Blake’s hips bucked instinctively at the sensation. He could feel Adam swallow around him, knowing that if he didn’t stop Adam soon, he’d be coming and it’d be over way too soon for his liking. He didn’t want to come like this, not the first time.

            Adam moved back up to kiss Blake, and Blake could almost taste himself on Adam’s lips. It was maddening. Then Adam was gone, only to roll back over, lube and a condom resting on his stomach, Adam giving him that grin to drive Blake crazy. “Think you can handle it this time, or do I have to do all the work myself again?”

            Blake chuckled breathlessly. “Actually if you want to, I was hoping you’d…do me?”

            Adam’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “In a manner of speaking?”           

            Rolling his eyes, Blake, ever direct, tossed Adam the lube and said, “hurry up and fuck me idiot.”

            If Adam had had any reservations about Blake’s commitment to them, to this whole situation, Blake saw them melt away as he rose up to kiss Adam, who was still straddling him. It was them finding middle ground, and the knowledge that the trust they shared couldn’t be matched. Adam pushed Blake back down, telling him to spread his legs, his voice breaking in anticipation. Blake closed his eyes, heard the cap of the lube, wet sounds as Adam worked it over his fingers. It wasn’t until he could feel Adam’s finger gently brush over his hole that he started to panic, didn’t know if he could do this. Adam’s voice cut the silence, “Do you want to stop?” to which the only answer could be “ _No_.”

            Adam went excruciatingly slowly, pushing inside and allowing Blake to breathe, to get used to the burn. After several minutes, Adam started to move, circling his hole, slightly pressing against nerves, which caused Blake to see stars again. When Blake pressed down and asked for more, Adam pulled out, only to return with two, working him open, pulling Blake’s moans out of him. Blake wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep him there, if he wanted more, or if he wanted it to stop, but he continued to thrust in time with Adam’s hand.

            Adam kept going, being careful not to tip Blake over the edge as he got him ready, determined not to hurt him. Blake could only say “Fuck” again and again, occasionally changing it to “Fuck me” or “Fucking come on.” Finally, Adam stopped, pulled his fingers away, leaving Blake feeling empty, thrusting into nothing. Adam ripped open the condom, adept enough to lean down and kiss Blake as he puts it on. After that, his hands tightened on Blake’s hips and he lined himself up. “Are you sure?” he whispered, and Blake wasn’t sure if he could actually speak. He nodded instead, and then Adam moved.

            “Fuck.” Blake breathed, feeling lucky that he _could_ still breathe. He could feel Adam’s cock move inside him, slowly, letting him adjust. Blake closed his eyes again, only to have Adam’s voice snap him out of it. “Keep your eyes open. Watch me. Watch me when I come.”

            Blake swallowed. “God I hate you.”

            Adam stopped moving.  _I didn’t mean it_ , Blake wanted to say. He was full and            falling apart, still adjusting to having Adam inside him. Eventually Adam started to move again, slowly circling his hips before thrusting into Blake. It was a dance of pulling out and thrusting back in, building a rhythm that they could both work with. Blake felt like he was being ripped apart and put back together again with each thrust. His hands gripped the sheets, pulling until they exposed the mattress underneath. His mouth created a symphony of nonsense, alternating between, “Come on,” and “ _Please_.”

            It was a while before Adam felt comfortable enough to move faster, slamming into Blake, fucking him in earnest as the sweat built on his forehead. Blake wished he could lick it off, but Adam had him pinned, fingers gripping his hips so hard there would be bruises in the morning. Blake could hear the skin slapping against skin, Adam slamming up into him, and then he hit that bundle of nerves, each thrust causing heat to build in Blake’s stomach. Then Adam wrapped his hand around Blake’s cock, and that ultimately was the definition of _too much_ , as Blake threw his head back with a groan and came harder than he ever had in his life, Adam fucking him through it.

            Blake managed to keep his eyes open, watching as Adam growled and grunted and fucked his boneless body until he bottomed out, shaking and panting and coming. It was fast becoming Blake’s favorite thing to watch. Adam leaned down, still inside Blake, and captured his lips. It said everything neither of them had the energy or the words to say.

            After, when Adam was curled into Blake, both of them exhausted and drifting towards sleep, Blake’s eyes were still open, thinking back on the night and the ways in which his world was now changed for good. Happiness washed any anxiety he had away, knowing that whatever came next for them, they would do it together. With one last kiss to Adam’s forehead, he felt like they could handle anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Did...did I...DID THIS FIC JUST CRACK 30K?!  
>  *HALLELUJAH CHORUS* (the happy kind. not the Shevine feels kind)
> 
> This is the end of the line for this fic, with only one chapter to go. Come tomorrow (I already have the last chapter written), it'll all be over. I'm so happy I can almost be satisfied with the smut in this chapter (seriously, I'm sorry, I hope it's okay, Becky wouldn't write it for me). I'll do my real thank you write up at the actual end because I still have to wrap things up for our boys.
> 
> Huge thanks as ever to Becky and Bubbles, and to everyone who has decided to read/comment on this fic. I adore you all.  
> Now, time to put my Hallelujah chorus away and put this thing to bed. Comments and concrit are appreciated!


	16. One More Night (Remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting together hadn't been easy. Coming out hadn't been easy. Spending the rest of their lives together? That seemed like it would be easy. One year later, the success of Overexposed leads Adam to reflect on how they got here, and where they go next, with Blake at his side.

_But baby there you go again, there you go again  
Making me love you_

**One Year Later**

            “Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in raising a glass to _Overexposed_ – officially certified platinum!”

            The crowd cheered, all gathered together atop some hotel Adam had already forgotten the name of. He bowed his head sheepishly, pulling his band mates in for a hug and series of pictures. They weren’t sure what the future held for them, if this would be the last hoorah for a while, or if they’d be back in the studio tomorrow. Adam knew that they would always be there for each other, they just had different paths to follow now; there were other projects, new music, and families. Adam found Blake in the crowd, beaming with pride. He held Adam’s gaze, affection pouring out of them both as though connecting them. This was just as much a victory for them as it was for the band, Adam couldn’t help but realize.

            It had been a long, hard year. Coming out to his family had been easy, being accepted into Blake’s decidedly more difficult, but it had happened. In hindsight, it had been easy compared to coming out in public. The second season of The Voice had come and gone and all subtlety had flown out the window, with Carson teasing them at every possible turn, and it was hard, being so careful not to give anything away. The decision to come out publically hadn’t been easy; the meetings between their publicists and managers had been intense, fraught with confusion and anxiety, or what both Blake and Adam called “bullshit”. Long story short, anyone who didn’t support them didn’t last long on the team. Finally they had a plan: One interview in The Voice off-season. When season three aired, it would all be out in the open.

            They went with Oprah. They knew they could trust her to bring their story to the public with the most truth, and the least amount of drama. It was on home turf, in Adam’s house, where it had all began. Halfway through the interview, during a break in filming, Blake leaned over and whispered to Adam, “Oprah is sitting on our couch”, and sure enough she was there, legs crossed as she spoke with her assistant, seated on the red loveseat that had started it all. It took another 5 minutes before they could stop laughing, trying to apologize but failing miserably.

            Oprah was great, and she brought out the best in them. Blake mixed drinks, and Adam gave a tour of the house. She focused on them separately and as a couple, and the whole thing felt like a cathartic experience, finally releasing the truth into the world. They talked about how it had happened and why they wanted to tell the public. Blake admitted his own fears, and said “I think I’ll be finished in country music after this. I just hope everyone understands that it’s who I am, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

            Adam held his hand, strange to be doing so on camera with the knowledge that in a matter of weeks, everyone would see it. To them he said, “I didn’t go out looking for someone like Blake. He just found me. And when you find someone this strange, and annoying, and weird…”

            “Sitting right here!” Blake said indignantly.

            “…and perfect, you just want to make it work. Nothing else really matters.”

             Eventually, Oprah asked Adam the dreaded question. “You’ve said before that you don’t want to be married, that you don’t think you ever could be married to someone. Is that still true?”

            Blake shifted to look at him and Adam wanted to sink into the floorboards. _I’m never going to live this one down_ , he thought, and shrugged, “I didn’t think I wanted to be married, but I think Blake has taught me how much fun marriage can be.”

            Oprah smiled, and said, “If you have anything you want to announce here and now, now would be the time!”  
            Adam laughed, “No, no! But I don’t know, six months or a year or ten years from now I might ask him.”

            “If you wait ten years before you ask me to marry you, I might not say yes!” Blake said in mock disdain, eyeing Adam over the top of his drink as he took a sip. They both knew this was the real deal. A ring didn’t change that.

            The months that followed were surprisingly blissful; Blake moved in, and they started to consolidate their lives into a shared one. They drove each other insane, but always managed to make up. The best thing about their love-hate chemistry is that the love always outweighed any hate.

            So there they were, Blake and Adam, Shelton and Levine (The media had dubbed them _Shevine_ , to Adam’s great annoyance. Blake didn’t mind it because at least his name was first). _Overexposed_ was coming to an end, and Adam couldn’t wait to take a break. Blake wanted to go back to Oklahoma, and Adam had almost come around to the prospect of going with him; he was even reconsidering his stance on hunting, after Blake had brought up the concept of making out in the woods (because any chance to pin Blake against a tree was one that must be taken). For tonight, however, they stared down at the Los Angeles skyline, appreciating how long it had taken them to get here.

            “So how do you feel?” Blake asked, interlocking his fingers with Adam’s. “About the album I mean.”

            “Proud,” Adam said, not really sure how to describe it. “In a way I feel like it’s because of you. The first album we put out after I got to know you.”

            “Hey if you want to give me credit, I’ll take it later,” Blake grinned, capturing Adam’s lips in a soft kiss, the action never getting old while they were in public.

            “You’re an idiot,” Adam smiled. “You know, it’s weird. Some of them were written before I’d even met you, but they all just ended up feeling like you were part of them.”

            “That’s what happens when you’re in love,” Blake said, wrapping his arms around Adam. “All the songs become about us.”

            The love that Adam felt for his best friend, his partner in everything but name, was so overwhelming in that moment that he almost could have proposed, and made it official. But they had time. They had all the time in the world.

            As the music wafted over to them from the dance floor, Adam’s own voice singing _Let’s Stay Together_ (a cover they’d done for some international release of the album), he kissed Blake with all that overwhelming love, promising everything without saying it. When he pulled away, he asked “Wanna dance?”

            Blake only smiled, and they were gone.

_I'm so in love with you_  
 _Whatever you want to do_  
 _Is all right with me..._  
 _'Cause you... make me feel so brand new_  
 _And I... want to spend my life with you_

_Let’s stay together_  
 _Loving you whether, whether_  
 _Times are good or bad, happy or sad_

_Let’s stay together_

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT.  
> NEVER THOUGHT I’D SEE THE DAY.
> 
> I started writing this fic back in 2012, first with an outline for how each song on Overexposed could relate back to Shevine, which I stupidly sent to Bubbles who then told me I should write it. I posted the first chapter in October, and it’s been a long and winding writer’s block bumpy road to here. As my first major multi-chapter fic, this was a huge undertaking for me. The fact that it was RPF made the endeavor all the more terrifying and oftentimes discouraging, but the fact that this is now a finished THING makes me the happiest person.
> 
> I have a few thank yous to dole out:  
> To Bubbles, for her enthusiasm and suggestions and for being the shipper Queen we need but don’t deserve. Without her, and I know this in my heart, Shevine would not be as big a fandom as it is, and this fic certainly wouldn’t exist. Thank you for bringing these two enormous idiots into my life, I love you.
> 
> To Becky, my diligent and glorious beta extraordinaire, who is so talented it makes me sick, who I can always depend on for an ego boost when I send her a fic and get an email or tweet filled with capslock keysmashes back. Good times man. I love you.
> 
> To my two little idiots who inspired this fic. Boys, get a clue. And please don’t read this for fuck sakes. I love you.
> 
> And finally to everyone who has read, given kudos, commented on, and supported this fic over all these months. Thank you for all of your wonderful comments and messages on Tumblr, and for keeping me in line and making sure I updated within a reasonable timeframe. I love you.
> 
> Stay tuned, there will be another multi-chapter piece from me soon (it's already being written in fact). For updates or if you have questions, you can find me at sandramg.tumblr.com. Until next time!


End file.
